


Doing the Right Thing Isn't Always Easy

by CheekyBrunette



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Basically when iwaoi were kids, Child Abuse, Elementary School, Hurt/Comfort, I'm going to tag this as, Iwaizumi told his teacher about Oikawa's broken home life, M/M, Neglect, and Oikawa hates Iwaizumi for making him move away, and now it's 7 years later, but it's really not I just don't want anyone getting triggered unnecessarily, kid!iwaoi, or so he thinks
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-10
Updated: 2016-10-06
Packaged: 2018-06-07 13:37:46
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 57,879
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6807097
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CheekyBrunette/pseuds/CheekyBrunette
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"Oikawa isn't the same dorky, alien-loving nine-year-old. </p><p>For starters, he's taller. He's also colder, more distant, more calculating. Iwaizumi can practically see the tall, tall wall he had built around himself, and he's transported back to the days where they used to make moats in the sand together and go hunting for tadpoles. He used to be inside Oikawa's walls. But now, he was on the outside looking in, just like everybody else."</p><p> </p><p>  <i>AU in which Iwaizumi hasn't seen Oikawa since he spilled a secret he hadn't realized he'd been keeping, and somehow they end up in the same school on the same team all over again.</i></p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Prologue

Iwaizumi waded through the creek, dress pants rolled up to his knees. He had to be careful. His mom would kill him if he got his jeans wet. She had told him he wasn’t allowed to search for tadpoles today, but Iwaizumi had let Oikawa drag him to the creek anyway.

“My face hurts,” Oikawa complained, overturning a rock in the stream. Minnows swam out from underneath it, tickling Iwaizumi’s toes. Oikawa dropped the rock in surprise, and water splashed all over his already wet clothes. He had been splashing in the creek for about an hour while Iwaizumi toed carefully around the edges.

“It’s because you’re sunburn, weirdo. You gotta go in the shade,” Iwaizumi replied. Oikawa pouted and scrubbed at his lobster red nose. “You don’t have to get out of the water, just go under the bridge.”

Oikawa’s pout only grew deeper, but he stomped towards the overpass anyway. Iwaizumi backed up so the other boy’s splashing footsteps didn’t get him wet.

The creek was at the entrance to their neighborhood. You had to drive over a bridge to get into their development, a bridge that straddled the stream they liked to visit. There was just enough sand to make moats and sandcastles out of, but the beach quickly transitioned into grass that filled with little yellow flowers in the spring. Underneath the bridge, there were giant rocks that had been excavated by bulldozers when their neighborhood had been built, and Iwaizumi and Oikawa liked to climb on them when there weren’t any teenagers with spray-paint hanging around.

“Iwa-chan, look!” Oikawa shrieked, pointing to a crack between the rocks. Iwaizumi slowly made his way over, refusing to let the ankle deep water get his pants wet. “ _Faster_ , Iwa-chan!”

“I’m _coming_.”

Iwaizumi slipped up the steep rock with wet feet. He grabbed Oikawa’s shoulders to steady himself. The other boy was sitting on top of the tallest rock, his feet dangling over the edge as he peered down at a puddle in the creek bed below. “They’re drowning,” Oikawa said with a frown.

In the space between the rocks, there were at least a hundred tadpoles squirming around in a quickly evaporating puddle. There wasn’t enough water for them to swim. Oikawa was right. They _were_ drowning.

“Well, then, we have to save them,” Iwaizumi said definitively.

Oikawa tilted his head back and flashed Iwaizumi an upside-down smile. “You want to save _everything_ ,” he said before jumping up. “But I do, too! Should we give them more water?”

Iwaizumi shook his head. “No, they might use it all up… We should get them into a new place with more water.”

“Like the creek?”

Iwaizumi crinkled his nose. “Yeah, that’s good,” he agreed. “I have my bucket up on the hill. We can use that.”

“I’ll go get it!” Oikawa offered, climbing down the rock frighteningly quickly. Iwaizumi frowned as he watched him leave. He wondered what Oikawa’s mom would say if she saw him running around on the shifting boulders with sunburn coating his cheeks and his uniform dripping wet and clingy. He bet Oikawa would get yelled at for not putting on sunscreen when he got home. Next time, Iwaizumi would have to remind him so he didn’t get in trouble.

Oikawa dipped out of sight, but appeared a second later. He waved Iwaizumi’s bright yellow bucket over his head happily. “I got it!” he sang, tripping over stones to try to get back to Iwaizumi and the tadpoles.

“Calm down before you hurt yourself,” Iwaizumi snapped, but Oikawa didn’t listen. If anything, he ran faster.

“Now what?” Oikawa asked, squeezing between the rocks to kneel by the tadpoles. His feet sunk into the muddy sand.

“Now we have to be careful,” Iwaizumi replied. He clambered down to squat next to Oikawa in the mud. He looked at the tadpoles thoughtfully. “Maybe put some water in the bucket first so they can swim around.”

“Okie dokie!” Oikawa chirped. Iwaizumi winced at how loud his voice was directly in his ear. He grabbed onto his toes as he waited for Oikawa to fill up the bucket. “Is this good?”

“Sure,” Iwaizumi said without looking. Because even if it _wasn’t_ good, the whining Iwaizumi would have to put up with wouldn’t be worth fixing it.

A smile spread across Oikawa’s face. (Honestly, he got happy about the smallest of compliments, it was so stupid.) “Great! What’s next, boss?” he asked, squatting beside Iwaizumi. He looked smaller than usual with his knees underneath his chin.

“Next we have to pick them up and put them in the bucket.”

“Gross!”

“Well, it’s not like they can _fly_ in, we’ve gotta hold them,” Iwaizumi replied, his nose twitching in annoyance.

Oikawa pouted. He went from happy to irritated in two seconds flat. Fortunately, Iwaizumi was used to his ever-changing moods. Oikawa had moved into the house down the street in second grade, and now they were big fourth graders. He had been friends with Oikawa for two years; Iwaizumi had gotten pretty good at handling him. “I’m not touching them,” Oikawa replied, his eyebrows furrowed together.

Iwaizumi grunted. “Fine,” he said with an eye roll. He reached into the puddle and cupped up a handful of wriggling tadpoles. A couple dropped from between his fingers and Oikawa squealed. “Be quiet, you’ll scare them!”

“But it’s _gross!”_

“Maybe they think _your_ gross. You don’t know,” Iwaizumi snapped. He released the tadpoles into the awaiting bucket before reaching into the puddle for more. Oikawa yelped and whined the entire time, talking about how nasty the tadpoles were and how disgusting they looked wiggling around in Iwaizumi’s hands.

Iwaizumi ignored him for the most part, but one thing Oikawa said stood out. “Your so _brave_ , Iwa-chan!”

“They’re just baby frogs. There’s nothing scary about it,” he said as he fished out the last of the tadpoles. Oikawa watched with wide eyes.

“But I bet they’re slimy.”

“Nah, they’re not that bad,” Iwaizumi replied. He stood up and wiped his hands off on the rock next to him. “Okay, let’s set these guys free.”

The bucket had become significantly heavier with all of the tadpoles in it. He and Oikawa both had to hold onto the handle to lift it and carry it the short way to the stream.

“1…2…3…” Iwaizumi counted before they worked together to tip over the bucket. The tadpoles poured out into the creek, dispersing immediately as the water forced them downstream.

“Goodbye, tadpoles!” Oikawa chirped, smiling and waving as the fish swam away. Iwaizumi looked over at his friend. Oikawa looked hideous; his nose and cheeks were beet red with sunburn and his hair was damp at the ends from splashing around too much. His uniform was wet and clinging to him, and there was sand between his fingers and toes.

“You need a shower,” Iwaizumi said, crossing his arms over his still clean and pressed uniform.

Oikawa didn’t seem concerned. Instead, he turned to face Iwaizumi, his hands clasped together joyfully. “Iwa, we should save tadpoles every day, okay?” His eyes turned into little crescents as he smiled.

Iwaizumi scoffed. The rest of Oikawa might be ugly, but even Iwaizumi had to admit that his smile was dazzling.

“Yeah, well, we’ll see about that,” he muttered. He tugged at his collar, starting to feel a little hot. “Hey, I think it’s time to go home, though. My mom’s probably making dinner, and you should probably get out of those gross clothes.”

Oikawa visibly deflated. “Oh, okay… You’re right, I guess.” Iwaizumi had known Oikawa for two years, and he knew most of the reasons why he felt what he felt and did what he did. However, Iwaizumi had no idea why Oikawa always looked so sad to go home at night. Half the time they were together, they were arguing. Surely, Oikawa must get sick of him at some point.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, okay? We’ll walk to school.”

Oikawa offered him a weak grin. “Okay.”

They hiked up the hill and stuffed their wet feet into dry socks and shoes. Iwaizumi tried not to panic as the swampy smell from the creek seemed to linger around them. If his mom realized he had been at the stream, she’d be furious. He tried to distract himself by listening to Oikawa ramble the entire walk home. He spoke faster and faster as they neared their respective houses. Iwaizumi walked him to his door. “See you tomorrow?” Iwaizumi asked. Oikawa nodded vehemently.

“See you tomorrow.”

* * *

The next day, Oikawa was late for school. When he finally arrived during their first break, Iwaizumi wasn’t exactly happy to see him.

“You smell like mud,” he complained. Oikawa’s uniform was disgusting; there was sand clinging to the seams of his dress shirt, and there were creases in his pants like he had them rolled.

“You _look_ like mud,” Oikawa replied. Iwaizumi snarled.

“Well, you’re as skinny as a toothpick!”

“Well, you’re ugly!”

“Your stupid!”

“Nuh-uh!”

“Okay, fine, you’re not,” Iwaizumi conceded, “But that doesn’t mean you’re not annoying. Because you’re definitely annoying.”

Oikawa stuck his tongue out at Iwaizumi before looking down at his clothes. He scratched away some sand from his collar. Iwaizumi wanted to ask him why he was wearing his dirty uniform from yesterday, but Oikawa looked too disheartened as he stared at his rumpled shirt for Iwaizumi to bring it up again. “Do you wanna hang out again after school today?” Oikawa asked, looking up hopefully.

Iwaizumi crinkled his nose. “Can’t. I gotta go to my grandma’s house.”

Oikawa looked crestfallen. “Oh... Well, maybe tomorrow?” he asked, and Iwaizumi huffed out a sigh. Oikawa wanted to hang out every day.

“Maybe. We’ll see.”

“Okay,” Oikawa agreed weakly, leaving to find his desk. Iwaizumi stared straight ahead, knowing that Oikawa’s frown would make him cave almost immediately. Stupid Oikawa and his stupid face.

In the end, Iwaizumi gave in without even looking at Oikawa. He was being too quiet and sad for Iwaizumi to leave him hanging for a second longer. “Alright, fine, just not for too long, okay? I’m getting sick of seeing you all the time,” he hissed across the aisle. He sounded bitter, but by the look on the other boy’s face, he could tell Oikawa knew he didn’t mean anything by it.

“You know you love me,” Oikawa cooed, blowing a kiss towards Iwaizumi as he took out his school supplies from his backpack. He had a few pencil stubs and a half used eraser.

Class started back up again before Iwaizumi could reply. Iwaizumi fought back a groan. He’d chose bickering with Oikawa over math class any day.

* * *

Oikawa sneezed, and snot sprinkled all over Iwaizumi’s arm. “Ew, _Tooru!_ Cover your mouth when you sneeze!” Iwaizumi complained, grabbing the back of Oikawa’s dress shirt to clean off his arm.

Oikawa squealed and tried to pull away from Iwaizumi’s grasp. “No fair!” he whined, wiggling to get free.

Iwaizumi grimaced when he noticed the trail of snot hanging from Oikawa’s nose. “Just hold on for one second,” he said, taking off his backpack. He knelt down on the sidewalk and unzipped his bag. It took a couple seconds of rummaging through broken colored pencils and spare change to find the tissues his mom had packed him. “Here.”

“Thanks!” Oikawa said as brightly as he could, despite how hoarse his voice was.

They were walking home from school, and Iwaizumi was glad the day was over. Their last subject of the day was Japanese history, which was Iwaizumi’s absolute least favorite class. He always finished his worksheets quickly and spent the rest of the period doodling pictures of samurai in the margins.

He kicked a rock and watched it skip across the sidewalk, landing at the entrance of their neighborhood. Oikawa hopped onto the bridge. “Oh, Iwa-chan, look!” he said, leaning over the railing and pointing at the creek below.

Iwaizumi poked his head over the railing, too. There was a cat curled in the grass by the water. “Tooru... No.”

Oikawa stuck out his bottom lip. “But you don’t even know what I was going to ask.”

“You want to go pet it,” Iwaizumi said confidentially. “But petting stray cats is probably how you always get sick.”

Oikawa was always getting sick. Every cold and flu season, he caught every bug in the air. Sometimes, Iwaizumi was convinced that Oikawa was out of school more often than he was in school; he had the worst immune system out of anyone in their grade.

“But cats are lucky,” Oikawa declared. “Maybe cats are what help me get better, and if I don’t pet it, I’ll be sick for longer.”

Iwaizumi blinked at Oikawa a few times. “You know what? I can’t stop you. Go pet it, if you’re going to pet it,” he replied, giving in. His mom always told him that sometimes, you just have to choose your battles. Life with Oikawa was all about only fighting the really important issues.

Oikawa was off before Iwaizumi had even finished talking.

He stomped down the hill after Oikawa, treading carefully so he didn’t fall and roll into the creek. Oikawa had no such concerns, however. He sprinted down the hill, only slowing when he got within three feet of the kitten, so he didn’t scare it off.

Iwaizumi joined Oikawa as the other boy was stretching out his fingers to scratch the cat’s head. The kitten purred and rubbed its forehead against Oikawa’s palm. Iwaizumi peered over Oikawa’s shoulder, watching.

“My mom says that if cats like you, it means you’re really gentle and kind,” he said. “But I would never describe you as gentle.”

“Iwa-chan! How dare you!”

“Oikawa, you’re a walking disaster,” Iwaizumi pointed out. “But it’s okay, I like you anyway.”

Oikawa glared at him before shoving him over. Iwaizumi shrieked as he fell to the ground, his arms flailing out to the sides. The noise startled the kitten, who scrambled backwards before running away. Oikawa frowned. “You see what you do? If anyone here is a walking disaster, it’s you,” he argued.

Iwaizumi opened his mouth to reply, but Oikawa started sneezing before he could. Iwaizumi scrunched his nose with disgust as Oikawa sneezed at least six times in a row. “Let’s just get you home,” he said after Oikawa was done. “You need a nap.”

Oikawa sighed theatrically. “For once, Iwa-chan, you’re not wrong.”

Iwaizumi smacked him on the back of the head before walking him home.

* * *

“I’m _hungry_ ,” Oikawa whined. He was lying on his stomach on the floor of Iwaizumi’s room. The side of his face was smushed so far against the tatami that Oikawa’s left eye was squished closed.

“You’ve been saying that for the past three _years_ ,” Iwaizumi complained. He wasn’t one to exaggerate, usually, but sometimes Oikawa’s dramatic tendencies rubbed off on him.

“But, I _am_. I’m _hungry_ ,” Oikawa whined, his body limp on the ground.

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes and threw his pillow at Oikawa’s head. “Dinner is in an hour, calm down,” he demanded. He patted a spot on the bed next to him. “Come play Pokémon with me; stop thinking about food.”

Oikawa groaned. “Can’t. Too... hungry... to move...” he panted out, and Iwaizumi frowned. He was immune to Oikawa’s complaining at this point, but the way the other boy was pressed into the floor... Iwaizumi squinted at Oikawa’s dull eyes and matchstick legs.

“Well... Maybe we can sneak you some Yan Yan from downstairs.”

Oikawa managed to sit up a little bit. “Will you get it, Iwa-chan?” he asked, throwing Iwaizumi his best puppy eyes.

Iwaizumi huffed. “Yeah, just give me a minute,” he replied, frustrated. Oikawa had always been skinny. He should be eating more, not going hungry all the time. Oikawa didn’t even pack good lunches for school –just packaged stuff, when he had anything at all- and he was always begging Iwaizumi to get him food when they were together. “Next time, eat something before you come over,” Iwaizumi complained, climbing down off his bed and stepping over Oikawa on his way out the door.

* * *

Iwaizumi flipped over a rock, grunting in approval when he found a centipede wiggling around in the dirt. He tossed it into his bug carrier along with the two stag beetles he had found earlier. Now that it was starting to get really hot outside, creepy crawlies were lurking under every rock and log.

It was officially bug hunting season again.

“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa called from the other side of the park. He was standing under a tree, the shadows from the leaves making a funny pattern across his face. “Cicadas live in trees, right?”

“Yeah.” Iwaizumi was the expert on all things bugs, so Oikawa was always asking him questions. (He was also an expert on all things Godzilla, but Oikawa didn’t care about that as much). “Why?”

“Let’s go get some!” Oikawa replied, before jumping up and grabbing onto a low-hanging branch. He disappeared into a mass of leaves as he climbed. A foot appeared a second later when Oikawa slipped. “Whoops!”

“Tooru, you idiot, be careful! Didn’t your mom ever tell you it’s dangerous to climb trees?” he complained, running over to the base of the tree. He leaned against the trunk, searching through the branches for Oikawa. He spotted his purple sneakers before he saw the other boy’s face.

“Come up, Iwa-chan! There’s lots of cicadas up here! It’s so gross!”

“If it’s gross, then why would I come up?” Iwaizumi asked. He had no idea how Oikawa could be so stupid. If it wasn’t for his constant care and attention, he was pretty sure Oikawa would be dead already.

“Because it’s cool!”

Iwaizumi wavered. He wasn’t very good at climbing trees –he always scraped his arms all up on the bark- but he _really_ liked bugs. “...Is it mating season?” he asked eventually, adjusting his explorer hat on his head anxiously.

Oikawa smirked at him. “Why? Does Iwa-chan _like_ watching bugs--“

“No, you idiot! I’m asking because I’m definitely _not_ coming up if the cicadas are being all... I don’t know, _nasty_ ,” he replied, annoyed. Oikawa looked at him with an amount of smugness that no fourth grader should be allowed to possess.

“Shouldn’t you _know_ if it’s mating season? You’re the one who likes bugs, Iwa-chan.”

Iwaizumi sputtered.

“Why don’t you come up and see for yourself?” Oikawa offered, as obstinate as ever. Iwaizumi crossed his arms and stomped his foot. He wanted to be just as stubborn, but he was too curious.

He held out for all of thirty seconds.

“You just don’t know the answer,” he muttered as he hoisted himself up into the tree, his bug carrier dangling from his belt. “That’s why you’re not saying if it is or isn’t. You wouldn’t know how to tell.”

“I can tell _plenty_ things,” Oikawa disagreed. He looked genuinely offended. It wasn’t often that Oikawa was actually hurt by the things Iwaizumi told him; it was only when Iwaizumi brought up his intelligence that he got pouty.

Oikawa was behind almost everyone else in their grade. All the other kids had their moms check over their homework to make sure their answers were right, but Oikawa always came in with misspelled words and unequal math problems. Their teacher kept telling him to get his mom or dad to help, but Oikawa always made up excuses, saying they were both too busy.

But if Iwaizumi had a son who was as bad at reading as Oikawa was, he’d drop everything to help him learn.

“You can. You’re smarter than people think,” Iwaizumi replied factually, nodding his head. He liked arguing with Oikawa, but not when it made him sad like this. He didn’t mind giving him compliments when he needed them.

Oikawa looked at him blankly for a couple seconds, watching him struggle to meet him so high up in the tree. Eventually, a smile broke out over Oikawa’s face. “I dunno. I _can_ climb trees better than you, though,” he goaded.

If they weren’t precariously balanced on tree branches, Iwaizumi definitely would have punched Oikawa in the chest.

“Oh, look, Iwa-chan! Another cicada!” Oikawa chirped.

Iwaizumi stopped glaring long enough to look where Oikawa was pointing. He swung his leg to straddle one of the tree branches, and he peered through leaves to try to find the cicada. He gasped when he saw it. “It’s _huge!”_ he gasped. He looked to Oikawa excitedly, but frowned at the look on the other boy’s face. “Oi... Don’t do something stupid.”

Oikawa’s eyes flashed. “I’m gonna catch it,” he said.

“Tooru... no. You know that’s dumb.” Iwaizumi loved Oikawa, he did. He was his best friend in the entire world. But sometimes he was an absolute _moron._ The cicada was out on a dangerously thin part of the branch; there was no way Oikawa would make it without the wood snapping. Oikawa would kill himself trying to get a stupid little bug.

“But I love cicadas! They look like aliens!” Oikawa exclaimed, looking at Iwaizumi with his big, round eyes.

Iwaizumi groaned. He bent over and hugged the branch he was sitting on with both arms. Just thinking about Oikawa falling to his death for a stupid insect made him feel unsteady, like the smallest breeze would send him tumbling to the ground. “You think every bug looks like an alien. You said earlier that stag beetles look like they come from outer space, and we already have two of them. Can’t you just be happy with those?”

“I’m going to _get it_ , Iwa-chan!” Oikawa replied indignantly, already scooting towards the end of the branch. Iwaizumi closed his eyes.

“Tooru...”

“Relax, alright? I almost got it!”

There was a breaking sound, and Iwaizumi squeaked, hiding his face in the crook of his elbow. “Toor-“ There was a loud scraping noise and a scream. Iwaizumi looked up just in time to see Oikawa land on his arm.

There was a thump as his body hit the ground. Oikawa shrieked immediately afterwards, his face absolutely panicked.

Iwaizumi bit back a swear and quickly climbed down from the tree. He was more concerned about getting down to Oikawa than whether or not he fell, too. He hopped from the last branch next to Oikawa’s pained face. “Tooru... Tooru...” he repeated.

Oikawa’s face was scrunched up in agony. Tears leaked from the corner of each eye, but that wasn’t the shocking part. The shocking part was Oikawa’s already swelling arm. Iwaizumi was only nine-years-old, but he didn’t need double digits to know that Oikawa’s arm is probably broken.

“Tooru, we need to get you home.”

“ _What?”_

“You can’t lie here forever! We have to get you home so your mom can take you to the hospital,” Iwaizumi said forcefully. He wasn’t about to take no for an answer.

Oikawa’s eyes focused on him. “But she’s busy today.”

Iwaizumi physically flinched away from Oikawa’s words. Something about the way he said it, his voice so tight and his eyes so hurt... Somehow, Iwaizumi _knew_ his expression didn’t have anything to do with his swelling arm or the bruise forming on his cheek.

He thought about Oikawa’s unchecked homework and about how bad he was at reading. He thought about how hungry Oikawa was all the time, and how skinny and short he was. Something was _wrong_. Iwaizumi didn’t know what, he couldn’t put the pieces together, but something was _wrong._

“She’ll take you to the hospital, though,” he choked out weakly. “She’d _have_ to take you to the hospital, your arm is broken.” When Oikawa looked at him doubtfully, Iwaizumi had to close his eyes and breathe through his nose to keep calm. “She’ll take you, Tooru, I promise.”

Oikawa whimpered. “Okay,” he replied. “Okay, just... just one second before I get up, I gotta... I gotta...”

Oikawa collapsed into tears before he could finish, but Iwaizumi had a feeling this was what he had been meaning to do. If Iwaizumi had fallen from a tree and broken his arm, he would need to cry, too. He rubbed Oikawa’s leg as the other boy sobbed. “I didn’t... I didn’t even get the cicada!” he wailed, blubbering into the grass.

Iwaizumi patted his leg awkwardly. “There, there...” he said, not exactly sure of what to do.

“Iwa-chan, I don’t want to go home!”

“But you gotta get your arm checked out, and I’m not leaving you here in the park,” Iwaizumi said sternly. Oikawa sniffled, trying to pull himself together. Iwaizumi impulsively ran a hand through his friend’s hair. “Do you think you can walk?”

Oikawa coughed on snot and tears. He wiped his nose off clumsily on his good arm. “Yeah.”

Iwaizumi stuck his tongue out. “You’re such an ugly crier,” he complained, if only to break the tension, as he helped Oikawa to his feet. The other boy whimpered as his arm dangled uselessly by his side. His forearm looked warped where the bone had broken.

Oikawa cried as he cradled his arm to his chest to keep it still, and Iwaizumi gave him some privacy, looking away until he was ready to go.

They made the short trek to Oikawa’s house in silence. It seemed to be all Oikawa could do to focus on walking without crying. The block and a half it took to get from Oikawa’s front door to the park felt like an eon, but eventually they made it. Iwaizumi was relieved to see a car in the driveway. “Look, see? Your mom is home. She’ll take you.”

“Okay.”

“You’ll get a really cool cast, and I’ll be the first to sign it.”

“Okay.”

“Do you want a hug before you go?”

Oikawa looked at Iwaizumi, startled. But his face quickly crumbled. He nodded his head frantically, tears streaking down his chubby cheeks. “Yes, Iwa-chan. Yes, please!” he sobbed, and Iwaizumi hit him lightly on the back of the head before pulling his friend into a massive hug. Iwaizumi tried to focus equally hard on avoiding Oikawa’s hurt arm and being warm and cozy. Oikawa was always clinging to him; hopefully he had learned how to give a good hug at some point of their friendship.

Iwaizumi eventually had to peel himself away. “Now, go get your mom, idiot. And pick a purple cast. It’ll match your sneakers.”

“Okay,” Oikawa croaked before walking up to his steps. Iwaizumi watched as Oikawa walked through his front door. They’d be laughing about this tomorrow, he was sure, and everyone would be signing Oikawa’s cast.

So why did he feel so scared?

* * *

Oikawa showed up at his door the next morning to walk to school, and he was a sight to take in.

His shirt was rumpled like he slept in it, and the button on his pants wasn’t done. His hair was ruffled, too. Iwaizumi was pretty sure he could spot a blade of grass still hiding in his fringe.

But Iwaizumi was used to seeing Oikawa in dirty clothes with messy hair. It was gross sometimes, yes, but he was a good friend, and Iwaizumi could put up with a little dirt and his goofy bedhead. That was all normal.

What wasn’t normal were the tear tracks running down Oikawa’s cheeks. There were streaks on either side of his face, and his eyes were puffy like he had been crying. Iwaizumi frowned and quickly looked at the other boy’s arm, only to discover that it was more bruised and more swollen than it had been the day before.

Iwaizumi immediately pulled Oikawa into the house. “You idiot, where’s your cast?” he asked, alarmed.

Oikawa shrugged meekly.

“Did you even go to the hospital? This looks gross! We need to get you some ice.” Iwaizumi pushed Oikawa towards his kitchen, forgetting all about school. He didn’t care if he was late. Oikawa was hurt, and he had been since yesterday. Someone had to do something about it.

“My mom said that it didn’t need to get looked at,” Oikawa murmured as Iwaizumi rummaged through his freezer for an ice pack.

He found one and looked down at Oikawa’s black and blue arm. His face scrunched up as he stared at it. His forearm was at least twice as wide around as it had been yesterday, it was so puffy. The bruise was a deep, disgusting purple –a color Iwaizumi had never seen skin turn before- and it reached from his elbow to his wrist. Iwaizumi felt tears collect in his eyes as he looked at it. “M-mom!” he called out, voice wavering.

“Hajime? What are you still doing here?” his mother asked, running down the stairs. She looked panicked when she rush into the room, which might have had something to do with how shaky Iwaizumi’s voice had been. He couldn’t even speak, he just gestured to Oikawa with the ice pack he still had in his hands. His mom turned to the younger boy, noting his black eye first and his molted arm second. “Oh, sweetie...” she cooed in one breath.

Iwaizumi pressed his lips together, trying not to cry. “I think he broke it,” he said, speaking up when Oikawa wouldn’t. Normally, Oikawa was desperate for attention, but now he was shrinking in on himself. “We were climbing a tree yesterday, and he fell.”

His mom didn’t take her eyes off Oikawa. “Does it hurt, honey?” she asked, and Oikawa shrugged. “I think it would be best if we took you to see a doctor. Would that be okay?” Oikawa just shrugged again. “Okay, sweetheart, let’s get you in the car.”

Oikawa walked quietly to the car. He didn’t say a word when Iwaizumi’s mom buckled him into his booster seat, which was crazy because Oikawa _always_ complained about having to use a booster when Iwaizumi didn’t have to.

Iwaizumi’s mom looked back at him through the rearview mirror before she pulled out of the driveway. “Hajime, would you like to go to school or come with us to the hospital.”

“I wanna go with Tooru,” Iwaizumi said with as much determination as he could muster.

His mom smiled proudly; she was always telling Iwaizumi to be a good friend. However, he could tell she was stressed. Iwaizumi was, too. How could Oikawa’s mom say he didn’t need to go to the hospital? Just looking at his arm was enough to make Iwaizumi’s mom jump into action, and Oikawa wasn’t even her son.

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa squeaked, looking at him with big round eyes. “You’re sure you’ll come?”

Iwaizumi swallowed thickly. He reached out to take Oikawa’s good hand. “Of course, I’ll come. I’ll be there whenever you need me, okay?”

Oikawa looked at him, his eyes flickering, before a tiny smile crept up his face. “Okay. I’ll be there whenever you need me, too. Promise,” he said, shifting their hands so their pinkies were linked. Iwaizumi snorted when Oikawa winked at him, but his pinky wrapped more tightly around Oikawa’s anyway.

* * *

“Are you gonna sign my cast or what?” Oikawa asked, stealing a piece of salmon from Iwaizumi’s bento box. Iwaizumi let him do it. He’d heard the doctors talk to his mom about how even though Oikawa’s arm was broken and how that was a big deal, their real concern was how emaciated he was.

It was scary. Oikawa weighed so little that the doctors thought it was a problem. They lectured Oikawa about eating while they wrapped plaster around his arm.

Every time Iwaizumi looked at Oikawa’s cast, he thought about it. He thought about how thin Oikawa was, and how short he was, and how gross his arm had looked, and how no one in his house was doing anything to help him. No one was helping him with his homework, or with his lunches, or with his injuries...

Oikawa’s arm had been so _hurt_. Iwaizumi couldn’t bring himself to touch Oikawa’s cast, he was so scared of making things worse.

Oikawa had no such concerns, though, and he was constantly flinging his hurt arm around to shove open doors or bat away mosquitos. Currently, he was shoving his purple cast in Iwaizumi’s face.

“I don’t even have a marker,” he said grumpily. He didn’t want to let Oikawa know how nervous he felt. He’d been a wreck at the hospital, hovering over his friend in the waiting room and pressing his face to the glass as they did x-rays on his arm. Oikawa already knew how worked up he was about all of this. He didn’t want to give him the satisfaction of seeing Iwaizumi pull his hair out any longer over something so stupid. Tons of kids broke their arms falling out of trees. Oikawa wasn’t special.

At least, he shouldn’t be.

“I have one!” Oikawa chirped happily, pulling out a silver sharpie from his bag. He stole Iwaizumi’s chopsticks and replaced them with the marker. “Come on, sign my cast! Make sure you write ‘Iwa-chan,’ not ‘Hajime.’”

“That’s stupid.”

“You’re stupid for not signing my dumb cast! You said you’d be the first person to do it, and I’ve been waiting _ages_ ,” Oikawa whined, kicking his feet a little bit. “Please? Please, please, please, please?”

Iwaizumi glanced at the clock. They still had another thirty minutes of lunch and then recess after. Iwaizumi couldn’t take a full hour of Oikawa whining at him; he really couldn’t. “Alright, fine,” he snapped, pulling off the marker cap with a bit more force than necessary. “Give me your stupid cast, already.”

Oikawa flourished his arm out dramatically, beaming when Iwaizumi started to write. He was practically vibrating with excitement.

_Tooru made me do this._

_-Iwaizumi Hajime_

“Iwa-chan!” Oikawa yelped indignantly when he read the message. “You could at least _pretend_ to like me sometimes!”

Iwaizumi snorted. “Fine,” he replied, reaching out for Oikawa’s cast again. Now that he had written on it, it seemed less scary to touch. He ignored Oikawa’s watchful gaze as he wrote a new message on the opposite side of the plaster.

_You’re out of this world._

_Love, Iwa-chan_

He finished the note with a little picture of a UFO and a couple silver stars. Oikawa immediately started squealing happily, ignoring the strange looks the rest of their class was throwing their way.

“Oh, Iwaizumi signed your cast!” their friend, Kenji, exclaimed. Apparently, he could see the metallic signature from the other side of the room. “Does that mean everyone else can finally sign it, too?”

“I wanna sign it!”

“I wanna sign it, too!”

“Me first, Oikawa!”

The entire class huddled around Oikawa and Iwaizumi’s desks. Oikawa straightened up in his chair, beaming under the constant attention. He held up his cast for everyone to sign, grinning when girls drew him little cats and dogs and whining when Kenji wrote “butts” by his elbow.

One of his classmates, Akiko, elbowed Iwaizumi in the side, pulling his eyes off of Oikawa. “Isn’t it cool that you got to sign Oikawa’s cast first? He hasn’t let anyone touch it since he got it!” she asked, hands fisted in excitement.

Iwaizumi shrugged. “I guess,” he replied. Akiko looked horrified.

“It’s cool!” she admonished. “You’re so lucky. Oikawa is the first person in our year to have a cast to sign! And now all of our names get to be on it!”

“The idiot fell from a tree. It’s nothing to get excited about,” Iwaizumi said, rolling his eyes. He glanced at Oikawa’s broken arm again, feeling stressed. Oikawa had made everyone wait just for him. He didn’t know how he managed to become so important to Oikawa, but it was almost overwhelming.

Akiko laughed. “Falling from a tree certainly _sounds_ exciting. It would be so scary!”

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes, ignoring the anxiety that had swelled up in his chest. “It’ll heal soon. Everyone should just calm down.” Honestly, Iwaizumi wasn’t sure if he was talking to Akiko or himself, but the sooner Oikawa had his cast off, the better.

* * *

Iwaizumi watched as Oikawa flipped through his DVDs. He didn’t really care what they watched, but so help him, if Oikawa made him watch  _My Neighbor Totoro_ again, he was going to go insane.

As if hearing his thoughts, Oikawa held up _My Neighbor Totoro_ victoriously above his head a moment later.

Iwaizumi scrambled of the couch to physically block the DVD player with his body. “No. _No._ Every time you’re over here, we watch the same movie. I’m not watching it again,” he said, arms spread wide to prevent Oikawa from sneaking through.

“But it’s so _happy_ ,” Oikawa gushed, hugging the movie to his chest. “It’s like... It’s like a _feel_ good movie,” he said excitedly. He flopped over onto the rug with glee. Iwaizumi blinked slowly at him.

Sometimes he forgot how dorky Oikawa could be.

“You’re such a nerd,” Iwaizumi said. He rubbed his face with both hands, messing up his hair a bit in the process. “Ugh, fine. We can watch it, but only because you’re such a loser,” he offered.

“Yay!” Oikawa leapt up from the ground, and shoved the movie into the DVD player before Iwaizumi could change his mind.

Iwaizumi begrudgingly climbed onto the couch. Oikawa tucked himself into his side moments later, and Iwaizumi rolled his eyes as the other boy clutched onto his arm. Oikawa seemed completely engrossed in the movie. He watched as the girls hid under all of their luggage on the way to their new house, but as they walked around their new home, Oikawa turned to look at him.

“Hey, you know? You’re the _best_ best friend I’ve ever had.”

Iwaizumi shoved Oikawa as hard as he could. “You’re nine-years-old. I’m the _only_ best friend you’ve ever had.”

Oikawa pouted. “Just be happy about how much I love you,” he replied, reattaching himself to Iwaizumi’s arm. “You love me, too, right? You would let me have your umbrella if I was like Totoro, standing in the rain?”

“We haven’t even gotten to that part of the movie,” Iwaizumi grumbled.

“Iwa-chan!”

“Well, of course I would!” Iwaizumi replied. “What kind of question even is that? I see you every day. We’re friends. Friends do stuff for each other.”

Oikawa’s eyebrows furrowed together. “But we’re _best_ friends, right? We’re _best_ friends?”

“Yeah, yeah, best friends. Now watch the mov-“

“I _knew_ it!” Oikawa interrupted, leaping on Iwaizumi and pulling him into a massive hug. Iwaizumi choked as the other boy tackled him onto the couch cushions. He struggled to sit back up for a moment, but Oikawa was like an octopus. In the end, he had to resign himself to watching the movie with Oikawa on his chest. The smaller boy’s hair tickled Iwaizumi’s nose whenever Oikawa threw his head back to laugh, and his knees and elbows poked Iwaizumi uncomfortably.

He shifted under Oikawa, trying to get more comfortable. Oikawa sat up a little bit, letting him move, before flopping right back down on top. Iwaizumi grunted when Oikawa’s boney shoulder dug into his chest.

“Your too skinny to cuddle, Tooru. It’s annoying.”

Oikawa frowned. “It’s not my fault,” he pouted.

Iwaizumi thought about that. No, he supposed it wasn’t Oikawa’s fault. If Oikawa’s mom had taken him to the hospital for his arm, then she would know that he was too skinny and give him more to eat. But instead, Oikawa was hungry all of the time.

Iwaizumi sat up, making Oikawa sit up too, and crossed his arms. “It _is_ your fault. You’re on top, so you’re the one who is in charge of getting up and getting snacks.”

Oikawa tilted his head for a second, looking at him curiously, before an excited smile took over his expression. “Okay, Iwa-chan! Pause the movie, I’ll get pretzels!” he said excitedly, leaping off Iwaizumi and running towards the kitchen.

What Oikawa lacked in size, he certainly made up for in enthusiasm.

Iwaizumi sat up normally on the couch, kicking his feet while he waited for Oikawa. When he finally came back, he had his arms full of fruits and vegetables. Iwaizumi rolled his eyes. “I thought you were getting pretzels,” he said, catching an apple as it fell from Oikawa’s arms.

Oikawa didn’t seem to hear him. “Your mom is making onigiri,” he said absently, absorbed in the food. He popped edamame into his mouth a few pods at a time. Oikawa put the shells back in the container, and Iwaizumi crinkled his nose. Oikawa settled onto the couch. “Play the movie.”

Iwaizumi followed Oikawa’s orders and unpaused their show. In a few minutes, his mom came in with the onigiri Oikawa had promised. Iwaizumi didn’t miss the way Oikawa preened when she ruffled his hair.

Silently, Iwaizumi made the decision to make sure Oikawa came over more often. It was good for him to be surrounded by healthy snacks and a mom who actually paid attention to him. Iwaizumi wanted to help take responsibility for Oikawa. “Hey, do you wanna come over tomorrow, Tooru? We can watch a different movie for a change,” he offered around a bite of rice.

Oikawa straightened up excitedly. “Yeah! I’d love to do that! Do you think your mom will make onigiri again, if we ask?”

“I most certainly will!” Iwaizumi’s mother shouted from the kitchen, and Oikawa practically collapsed into giggles. Iwaizumi hit his back when he started choking on his soy beans.

“Calm down. You’re too worked up.”

“I’m just excited,” Oikawa croaked. He rubbed his throat pitifully.

Iwaizumi snorted and looked to the side. “You’re always excited,” he replied. He tried to sound angry, but he couldn’t hide the fond smile on his face.

* * *

School had always been boring for Iwaizumi. His mother told him it was because he was too smart, but he didn’t think that was necessarily true. Things like math and reading came easily to him, yes, but that didn’t make him any smarter than any of the other kids. Everyone was good at something, and if their talents didn’t help them get good grades, that didn’t mean they were _dumb._ It just meant they weren’t good at school. That was different.

But maybe he only thought that way because of Oikawa.

Iwaizumi didn’t think Oikawa was stupid, but that’s not what the other kids in class thought. He always heard the kids around him whispering to each other when Oikawa answered a question wrong or asked the teacher to explain something that should be easy.

Iwaizumi couldn’t figure it out. Oikawa was sharp. He was ridiculously quick-witted for a nine-year-old; Iwaizumi struggled to come up with clever comebacks to match Oikawa’s when they bantered back and forth. Also, Oikawa always thought up the games they played. His imagination was unlimited, and he always remembered the details to whatever game they decided to play, so they could pick the story right back up.

Plus, Oikawa could remember stuff. He could recite endless facts about aliens, all the lines from his favorite movies, and the ingredients to the all meals Iwaizumi’s mom cooked for him (Oikawa always asked his mom how she made dinner). Clearly, he wasn’t stupid.

And Iwaizumi _hated_ it when he did things to make their classmates think otherwise.

Currently, Oikawa was up at the front board, staring at the times tables his teacher had written out for him to solve.

He was one of five kids at the board. They were all supposed to race to see who could finish ten problems first while the rest of the class cheered them on. However, while the rest of the kids sped along to write out their answers, Oikawa stood frozen.

He didn’t have a single answer written down.

The kids around Iwaizumi were all screaming for different kids –Matsuko, Risa, Hiromi...- but no one was cheering for Oikawa. Although, to be fair, why would you cheer on someone who had yet to answer one question?

“Come on, Tooru! Do the ones you know first!” Iwaizumi goaded. The other kids had at least three questions done, but Oikawa was still stuck on his first. Iwaizumi punched his desk angrily when the other boy didn’t move. “Look, Tooru! Look! Seven times one, you know that one, that one’s easy!”

Oikawa stuttered to life. He stepped back from the board, looking for the question Iwaizumi pointed out. Eventually, he found it. He hesitantly wrote a seven after the equal sign.

“Good job, Tooru!” Iwaizumi called, not caring that the rest of the class was quieting down as the other kids finished. “Good job, good job! Nine more!”

Oikawa glanced back at Iwaizumi. His eyes looked bigger than usual, and Iwaizumi suddenly felt furious. He didn’t want everyone to think Oikawa was stupid; he wasn’t stupid. How could you look Oikawa in the eyes and think he was anything less than genius? He was Iwaizumi’s best friend; he didn’t _deserve_ this.

Iwaizumi turned away from Oikawa. He couldn’t look at him right now, not when he was feeling so much secondhand embarrassment for the other boy.

It took a long while, but eventually Oikawa managed to at least put answers down for the rest of the questions, although most of them were wrong. Their teacher was kind as she corrected his mistakes, but there were a lot of them. The class snickered as she circled problem after problem.

Iwaizumi grew more and more furious with each chuckle he heard. It was all he could do to stop from shouting. Instead, he gripped his pencil so tight his knuckles turned white.

As their teacher called up the next group of students to race, a crumpled up note landed on Iwaizumi’s desk.

_I’m sorry. I didn’t mean to make you mad._

_-Tooru_

Iwaizumi stared at the note incredulously. He felt like smacking his head against the table. He wasn’t angry at Oikawa; he was angry at everyone _else._ He hated how badly they were probably making Oikawa feel about himself, and now –here he was- making everything worse.

He rubbed his temples. Unfortunately, before he could respond to Oikawa, math class was dismissed. Iwaizumi used their ten-minute break between classes to rush over to Oikawa’s desk.

“Iwa-chan,” Oikawa said. He looked scared.

Iwaizumi balled his hands into fists by his sides. It took everything he had not to punch Oikawa right then and there. “I’m not mad at you, you idiot. You did the best you could. That’s a _good_ thing.”

“Then why-“

“Because no one was cheering for you! And you felt bad, I could tell, you were all frozen! I _hated_ it,” Iwaizumi seethed. “But that’s not your fault, it’s everyone else’s fault. Nothing is your fault, Tooru. Don’t be sorry.”

Oikawa looked a little overwhelmed. His cheeks were flushed, and he ducked down to hide his face behind his cast. “It _is_ my fault, I’m stupid,” he said, voice cracking.

At least seventeen different alarms went off in Iwaizumi’s head at once. He reached out to grab Oikawa’s hand, tears piling up in his eyes too, though he didn’t understand why. “Oikawa, the only stupid thing about you is how you _think_ your stupid. That’s dumb.”

“You’re not even making _sense.”_

Well, Iwaizumi couldn’t disagree with that one. “Just don’t cry, okay? You’re not allowed to cry about things that aren’t true,” he begged, getting on his knees so he could see his friend’s face better. Oikawa blinked at him.

“You’re sure you think I’m smart? Because I could only answer, like, three-“

“You’re not smart at math,” Iwaizumi interjected before Oikawa could bring up what happened at the board. Iwaizumi didn’t want to think about it. “But that’s okay. You’re smart at tons of other things, so don’t worry about it.”

Their history teacher called everyone to their seats, and Iwaizumi frowned. It was probably the worst day for class to start early.

“Don’t worry,” he repeated, walking back to his desk obediently. He gave Oikawa one last look. “Don’t worry.”

* * *

“I’m bored,” Kenji complained.

Oikawa was out sick, and there was nothing fun to do at recess without him there to make up stories and pretend to be the bad guy when no one else would. (Seriously, out of all the boys in their friend group, Oikawa was the only one who would be a thief when they played cops and robbers.)

“We could play tag?” Iwaizumi offered, but he was met with three groans. “Or not.”

Iwaizumi flopped back in the grass. He loved hanging out with Kenji, Eito, and Hiromi, but it really was boring without Oikawa.

“We have to think of something,” Hiromi complained. “I don’t want to spend all of recess staring at the clouds. What fun stuff is there to do?”

“I mean, I already said tag, and you all said no. And tag is the _most_ fun thing to do,” Iwaizumi said grumpily, crossing his arms.

“You _always_ say tag,” Eito replied. “But you run the fastest; it’s no fun playing with you when you’re never _it_.”

Iwaizumi huffed out a sigh. “ _I_ have a lot of fun,” he muttered snottily. His three friends threw grass at him.

Kenji moaned and soon joined Iwaizumi lying in the grass. He sprawled out clumsily, not caring who he kicked in the process. “I miss Oikawa! Why does he have to get sick all the time? He’s never here,” he whined, rolling back and forth on the grass like a two-year-old having a tantrum.

“He’s better off at home where he’s not sneezing on my face,” Eito replied moodily. His face softened pretty quickly, though. “But yeah, it’s more fun with him here.”

Iwaizumi huffed out another sigh and stared at the clouds. At least he wasn’t the only one who felt lost without Oikawa.

* * *

Oikawa’s toes were in the creek despite how unusually chilly it was for September. He had been forcing Iwaizumi to play outside every day in preparation for winter, when they would have to spend all their time indoors. Iwaizumi was happy to hang out by the stream, even though his mom had made him wear gloves and a hat to brace the cold.

Oikawa kicked his feet, making the water splash. “Hey, can you skip rocks?” he asked out of the blue, holding up a flat stone from the creek bed.

Iwaizumi shrugged. “I dunno, let’s see.” He tossed the rock towards the water, and it landed with a plop. It immediately sunk. “I guess not.”

“That’s okay, neither can I,” Oikawa replied, rubbing his runny nose off on the back of his hand. Iwaizumi stuck his tongue out and wordlessly passed him a tissue. Oikawa blew his nose hard, scaring away several fish. “I heard though, that you can skip bullets on water if you shoot your gun right.”

“That’s sounds like a lie.”

“I bet it’s not. I bet that could happen, and you could like... skip a bullet to the other side of –like- a huge lake or something,” Oikawa mused. He sat up straight and turned to Iwaizumi excitedly. “Hey! We should go to a lake when it gets warm out again! We could go swimming!” he said, miming out a couple different strokes.

Iwaizumi stood up, inspired. “Hey! I bet I can hold my breath longer than you!” he said excitedly. He loved a good competition, and he especially loved beating Oikawa.

“Bet you can’t.”

“Can, too!”

“Fine, on the count of three. One... two... three!”

“...”

“...”

“...”

Oikawa gasped for air. “All right, all right, fine. You win,” Oikawa agreed. He looked crestfallen for a minute before he looked up at Iwaizumi mischievously. “Or maybe best two out of three?”

“Okay,” Iwaizumi panted, getting his breath back. Oikawa counted down from three again, and they both held their breath. Iwaizumi’s lungs had started to burn when he realized he could hear Oikawa breathing through his stuffy nose. He pinched the other boy’s nostrils closed, and Oikawa immediately sputtered for air. “I win again,” he teased. “Also, you’re a cheater.”

“Only sometimes!” Oikawa said indignantly, batting away Iwaizumi’s hand. “When we go swimming, I won’t cheat during any of our races.”

Iwaizumi snorted. “I don’t trust you.”

“No, I’ll prove it! Maybe it’ll be really warm tomorrow and your mom will take us to the pool,” he said excitedly.

Iwaizumi arched an eyebrow and looked down at Oikawa’s purple cast. “Well, you can’t exactly swim with that thing, now can you?” he said, gesturing to Oikawa’s healing arm. He frowned. It had been months since Oikawa had fallen from the tree. The whole summer had passed. “When are you supposed to get it off, anyway?”

Oikawa shrugged. “I dunno... I think it’s been a long enough time. I only needed it for four to six weeks, and it’s getting really itchy and stuff.” Talking about it seemed to remind just Oikawa how itchy it was. He picked a twig up from the ground and shoved it into his cast, scratching.

Iwaizumi’s frown only deepened. “If it’s been long enough, why don’t you get it taken off?”

Oikawa didn’t look at him, staring at his cast instead. “My mom doesn’t have time to take me back to the hospital,” he replied. He seemed upset for a second before flashing Iwaizumi a massive smile. “But it’s okay! I kind of like it! There’s lots of nice messages on here, even one from _you_ , Iwa-chan!”

“Tooru, that’s stupid. You can’t keep a cast on forever. Some day, you’re going to want to move your wrist again.”

Oikawa waved his hand flippantly at Iwaizumi, but when he spoke, his voice was strained. “You worry too much. Everything is fine.”

Iwaizumi wasn’t convinced.

* * *

“Mizushima-sensei?” Iwaizumi squeaked, making his teacher look up from her desk. He wasn’t one to speak to his teachers when he didn’t have to. He knew it was important to be very formal and polite, and he worried about messing up. Iwaizumi’s mom always told him he was a grumpy kid; it was probably best that he kept quiet around his elders.

But this was important.

“Do you-? I mean... I was just wondering... I have this problem- Or someone else has this problem, and... Well, do you think we could talk about it?” he asked. His teacher turned her desk chair towards him.

“Of course, Iwaizumi-kun. What’s bothering you?” She pulled over another chair for Iwaizumi to sit in, and he breathed out a sigh of relief. He didn’t know why he had been so nervous. Mizushima was a wonderful teacher, and she was always engaging her students more personally than any of the other teachers Iwaizumi knew. He took a deep breath to calm down.

“Okay, well, it’s about Tooru. Or, Oikawa-san, I guess,” he said. “He still has his cast on, but he broke his arm _months_ ago, and he’s been complaining about it feeling itchy and getting too tight, and all this stuff. But he says his mom is too busy to help him.”

Mizushima-sensei frowned. “Well, I’m sure she has-“

“But there’s more!” Iwaizumi replied before he could stop himself from interrupting. “When he broke his arm in the first place, she didn’t take him to the hospital at all. My mom had to take him because Oikawa-san’s mom sent him to school that day, even though his arm was all swollen and bruised!

“And she never gives him nice clothes to wear, he’s always dirty and wrinkly, and he’s always sick and hungry. He’s hungry _all of the time_ , seriously. Even when you give him a lot of food, he finishes it all. He finishes everything -even if he feels sick- cause he’s _so hungry._

 _“_ And did you know that he comes over to my house every day, and he never has to call and tell his mom where he is? Sometimes he’s at my house until really late at night! Sometimes he sleeps over! Plus, you know he doesn’t have anyone helping him with homework.

“I don’t know why no one helps him with anything! There’s no one _helping him_ , he’s all alone, he can’t drive himself to the hospital, Mizushima-sensei, and I told my mom, and she told me to talk to you. Someone has to take Tooru to the hospital, Sensei; someone has to help him,” he prattled off, his chest heaving by the end of it.

Mizushima-sensei looked taken aback, but mostly, she looked concern. Her hair fell into her eyes, but she was too startled to push it out of her face. “Okay. Okay, first, Iwaizumi-kun, how about you take a deep breath?” she instructed.

Iwaizumi breathed slowly.

“Good job. I’m sorry you’re so worried about your friend. It seems like he is having some trouble at home, doesn’t it?” his teacher asked. Iwaizumi nodded, and Mizushima mirrored him. “I have been noticing some concerning things as well, and I’m already talking with certified social workers to help Oikawa-kun as soon as possible.”

Iwaizumi took a shuddering breath and tears welled up in his eyes. He shoulders shook. “I just... I just...” He didn’t want to start blubbering in front of his teacher, but he had been so worried for so long, it was all pouring out without his permission. Fat tears rolled down each cheek. He was only in fourth grade, this was too much for him to keep track of. “I don’t like how dirty and hungry Tooru is. I don’t like how no one is paying attention to him.”

“I don’t like it either,” Mizushima replied empathetically. “But if what you say about his medical situation is true, then it will be very easy to get him somewhere safe, okay? There’s nothing to worry about. We’ll help Tooru.”

Iwaizumi nodded, but he didn’t stop crying. He knew Oikawa would have all kinds of questions for him about why he didn’t wait to walk to school with him and why he had been crying, but he had been too scared for too long to calm down.

Mizushima-sensei stayed with him until it was time for class. They braved assembly together, and Iwaizumi had to hold his breath the whole time to keep from crying.

Even though Mizushima promised him everything would be all right, he couldn’t help but feel scared for Oikawa. Every time he thought about Oikawa and his skinny legs and his long healed broken arm, he felt nauseous. Oikawa was way too important for the way his mother treated him.

* * *

Iwaizumi hadn’t expected to find so many cars parked outside of Oikawa’s house.

It was late Saturday afternoon. Usually, Oikawa would have come over to ask him to come out to play, and they would have spent a couple hours at the creek or the playground. However, Iwaizumi hadn’t seen him all day. He had figured he would go knock on his door and see if he was sick, but it looked like a bunch of other people had beat him to it.

“Tooru?” Iwaizumi asked, spotting the other boy sitting in the back of one of the cars. He was strapped into a car seat. “What’s going on?” It was obvious that Oikawa had been crying: there were tear tracks running down both cheeks and his body was curled inwards on itself, despite the small booster seat.

Oikawa looked up at him, startled. However, instead of looking happy to see Iwaizumi, his eyes narrowed into slits. “Go away,” he said, slamming the car door closed.

Iwaizumi jumped back.

Panic swept over him. Oikawa was hardly ever mad at him. They fought all the time, and Oikawa got frustrated with how cautious Iwaizumi could be, but he was never _ever_ mad.

Iwaizumi looked up to Oikawa’s house, and saw a tiny suitcase and a couple boxes of things sitting on the front step. There was a woman and two men –all wearing suits- talking to a lady who was screaming at them, a letter crushed in one hand. Iwaizumi didn’t know how he hadn’t noticed her before; she was so loud.

She looked familiar. It took Iwaizumi a second, but he realized it was Oikawa’s mom. In two years, he couldn’t remember ever once actually seeing her.

However scared Iwaizumi had been feeling before, he was twice as scared now. He scrambled to the other side of the car and let himself into the back seat. He sat next to Oikawa. “Tooru? Tooru, are you going somewhere? What’s happening?”

“Like you don’t _know_ ,” Oikawa scoffed, looking out the window and avoiding Iwaizumi’s eyes.

“No, I don’t know,” Iwaizumi replied. “What’s happening? Why are there suitcases? Why is your mom yelling?”

“Because I’m _moving_.”

Iwaizumi’s heart dropped like lead. He blinked, his chest tightening so painfully that he thought it might cave inwards. “What?” he asked, voice smaller than usual.

“You _idiot_. Sensei said someone in class told her about how I broke my arm, and how your mom had to take me to get it fixed, and how I still haven’t gotten my cast off, and now I have to live with my _grandma_ ,” Oikawa spat. Iwaizumi couldn’t see his expression as he looked out the window, but he was pretty sure he didn’t want to. “And I _know_ it was you. This is _your_ fault. Now, I have to _leave_.”

“Tooru, I-“

Oikawa’s head whipped around, and he fixed Iwaizumi with the angriest glare he had ever received. “I _hate_ you, Iwa-chan. I hate you _so much_. This is... This is...” Oikawa stuttered as he started to cry. “ _All your fault_.”

Iwaizumi clawed at his chest, suddenly feeling too hot for his clothes. “Tooru-“

“Get out of the car.”

“I didn’t mean to make you move, I just wanted to hel-“

“Get _out of the car!”_ Oikawa screeched, ripping his alien keychain off of the backpack nestled at his feet and throwing it at Iwaizumi. It missed him and landed in the grass outside. “Get out, get out, _get out_! I hate you, I hate you, I hate you, get _out!”_

Oikawa’s yelling alerted the adults to Iwaizumi’s presence, and he realized that Mizushima was the lady he saw.

Iwaizumi scrambled out of the backseat before he could get in trouble. Oikawa’s mom disappeared into the house, and the two men carried Oikawa’s things to the car, putting them in the trunk before climbing in the front seat. Mizushima-sensei held Iwaizumi back as he rushed to get in the car again. “Don’t worry, Iwaizumi,” she said, rubbing his back to calm him down. “I’m sure you and Oikawa will keep in touch. He isn’t going very far, just a few towns over.”

“No, you don’t understand,” Iwaizumi said, his heart beating way too fast. “You don’t understand, I have to talk to him. He can’t leave yet, he can’t _leave._ ”

“It’s fine, it’s fine.”

Iwaizumi’s face crumbled as he watched the car pull away from the curb. Oikawa glared out the back windshield, his gaze locked on Iwaizumi as the car drove away. Iwaizumi felt sick. All of a sudden, out of nowhere, his best friend was _leaving._

 _Forever_.

Mizushima-sensei didn’t let him go until the car was out of sight. Iwaizumi fell to his knees. The keychain Oikawa threw at him caught his eye, and he picked it up, sniffling. It dawned on him that this was the last time he would ever see Oikawa.

(Or so he thought.)


	2. Fancy Seeing You Here

Aobajōsai High was huge, especially for a private school and especially compared to Iwaizumi’s middle school.

Iwaizumi had been so proud to be scouted for Aobajōsai’s volleyball team, but now that he was here, his confidence was shaken. The school was two towns over from his house, and none of Iwaizumi’s friends from middle school had chosen to come with him.

He was all alone: a small fish in a big pond. And if the girls sitting behind him had anything to say about it, Iwaizumi didn’t matter much. They were more concerned about some guy from Class 6 they’d spotted at the Entrance Ceremony.

“I can’t believe he’s in our year! He’s so tall and _gorgeous!”_

“Nobody knows anything about him. The mystery is killing me!”

“Ah, I wish I wasn’t in Class 5! All the Class 6 girls are probably surrounding him right now. I wish I could talk to him!”

Iwaizumi ducked his head down a little further, trying to focus on his notes. He wasn’t _jealous_ ; girls had never shown a lot of interest in Iwaizumi. He was used to it. But it was the _first day_. These girls didn’t even know this kid’s _name_ , and they were _already_ talking about him nonstop. Iwaizumi didn’t know if he could take ten more minutes of listening to their squealing, let alone a whole year.

“You’ll never guess what Kayo just texted me! Apparently, he _talked_ to her. Like... like _really_ talked to her! He asked for her name and said he liked her hair clips!”

“No way!”

Iwaizumi couldn’t resist rolling his eyes. This guy sounded overly flirtatious. Iwaizumi didn’t think greasy guys like that deserved the attention they attracted. In his experience, the most popular guys were always the most artificial. They never had personalities deeper than the appearances they put up, and Iwaizumi didn’t respect shallowness. He liked people who were real.

Hopefully, his teammates would be a bit more down-to-earth.

* * *

When it came time for volleyball practice, Iwaizumi felt nervous. He was a first year; he was going to stick out no matter what. But regardless, he walked into the gym with as much confidence as he could muster. Aobajōsai _chose_ him to be on this team. He belonged here. He was a strong spiker (or at least he would be one day). He should walk in with his head held high.

His shoulders fell when he realized there were only two other first years in the room.

“Ah, phew, it’s just another newbie, like us,” one of the boys said. His hair was a weird salmon color, and his hands were down his shorts. He nodded at Iwaizumi. “I’m Hanamaki.”

The other boy was quiet, until Hanamaki elbowed him into introducing himself. He looked a little startled for a moment before focusing his attention on Iwaizumi. “Matsukawa,” he said with a shrug. “A lot of people call me Mattsun, though.”

“Nice to meet you both. I’m Iwaizumi,” he said, walking further into the gym so that they could have a proper conversation. He scratched the back of his neck sheepishly. “I’m kind of glad there’s no second or third years here yet... I haven’t even met them, and I’m already intimidated,” he admitted.

Hanamaki snorted. “Why? What do you think they’re going to do?” he asked, looking at Iwaizumi appraisingly.

Iwaizumi’s face flushed. “I dunno. I just don’t want to look like an idiot.”

“Dude, we’re first years,” Matsukawa cut in. “We’re going to look like idiots no matter what. It’s basically predestined. It’s written in the stars. It’s astrological, even.” He nodded sagely. Iwaizumi rolled his eyes while Hanamaki snickered.

“So that’s what my horoscope meant when it warned me to stay focused this morning,” he teased.

Iwaizumi decided to change the subject. Hanamaki and Matsukawa seemed familiar with each other. However, while they could joke around, Iwaizumi felt like it would be better to keep things formal. He didn’t warm up to people very easily; he was a little more guarded than he had been back in elementary school. Keeping everyone at an arm’s distance suited Iwaizumi better than messing around, anyway. “Are you guys excited to play?” he asked. Volleyball was always a safe subject.

Matsukawa groaned. “Ugh, no. Hanamaki always makes me sign up for this kind of thing with him,” he said, falling to his knees. “I just want a cheese-filled hamburger steak.” He collapsed on the gym floor as he spoke. Matsukawa was certainly dramatic.

Hanamaki kicked him. “I told you I would buy you food after this, but you at _least_ have to stay upright,” he demanded. Matsukawa didn’t move at all.

“I can’t. Stand. Too... Hungry...” he panted.

Iwaizumi snorted, but he didn’t think Matsukawa was very funny. Every time people joked about being hungry, he couldn’t help but think it wasn’t a laughing matter. There were kids out there who really _were_ starving. Some were so famished they _actually_ couldn’t stand.

“Don’t mind Matsukawa, he’s an idiot, but he’s a tolerable one,” Hanamaki promised, as if he was reading Iwaizumi’s thoughts.

“Oi, I am much more than tolerable. I’m great. I am a _blessing_.”

Iwaizumi crossed his arms, arching an eyebrow at Matsukawa. “I’ve only known you for all of five minutes, and I can already tell that you’re the _farthest_ thing from a blessing to ever be bestowed upon the earth.”

Matsukawa glared at him, but Hanamaki laughed, taking his hands out of his pants to smack Iwaizumi on the back. “I think I might be in love with you. Where have you been all my life?” Hanamaki asked, wiping tears from his eyes.

Iwaizumi opened his mouth to answer, but before he could, the door to the gym slid open. Iwaizumi turned, thinking it was some upperclassmen arriving to start practice, but he quickly realized he was wrong.

Iwaizumi could feel the color leave his face.

“Yo, are you okay?” Hanamaki asked, his hand still on Iwaizumi’s shoulder blade. Meanwhile, Iwaizumi was frozen. He couldn’t answer Hanamaki even if he wanted to; he was so surprised.

It had been years, but Iwaizumi would be able to recognize that face anywhere: those big brown eyes, that upturned nose. His too long hair from elementary school had been replaced with something shorter and more stylish, but there was no doubt in Iwaizumi’s mind.

“Tooru,” he gasped.

“What?” Matsukawa asked, picking himself up from the floor, but Iwaizumi didn’t bother to respond. Instead, he rushed over to Oikawa.

“Tooru!” he said. There wasn’t much that could faze Iwaizumi, but this... _wow._ Wow. There weren’t words to describe the rush of excitement and worry that washed over Iwaizumi when he realized that Oikawa was here, dressed in an Aobajōsai sweatshirt. _Did they choose the same school?_ “I can’t believe this, it’s crazy to see you!”

Oikawa looked up from his phone and towards Iwaizumi. He could have _sworn_ that there was a flash of recognition in Oikawa’s eyes. However, as quick as it came, it was replaced with something cooler. Disinterestedly, Oikawa gave Iwaizumi a smooth once over. His eyes traveled down and up his body before meeting Iwaizumi’s. “And you are...?”

“Ah, it’s been years, you probably don’t recognize me,” Iwaizumi realized. He was so flustered. Usually, Iwaizumi’s only emotions were content and angry. He couldn’t remember the last time he felt so much at once. “I’m Iwaizumi Hajime. Remember? From elementary school? How have you been? I’ve been so worried about you.”

Oikawa’s steely gaze didn’t change. Suddenly Iwaizumi felt uncomfortable. Oikawa used to be friendly, but he was currently looking down his nose at him. “I’m sorry, I don’t remember anyone by the name of Iwaizumi,” Oikawa replied airily. He turned back to his cellphone. It had been buzzing with texts ever since Oikawa put it down. He didn’t look at Iwaizumi as he spoke to him. “I know that a lot of people want to be friends with me, but don’t go making up a story just to get on my good side.”

It was simultaneously the most offensive and arrogant thing Iwaizumi had ever heard. So much so, he wondered if he had gotten the wrong person.

But no, Iwaizumi would recognize that face anywhere, no matter how much time had passed. He’d spent countless nights staring up at his ceiling, picturing those exact features and wondering if Oikawa was all right.

It seemed like he was better than all right, it seemed like he had been _spoiled_. Iwaizumi wanted to gag at how cocky Oikawa looked, from the way his hips jutted out to the side to the condescending smirk on his face.

Once again, Iwaizumi wanted to speak, but was cut off when the door to the gym was opened again. This time, it really _was_ the upperclassmen, and all of the first years fell silent as they were introduced to the team and started to warm up. Iwaizumi ended up doing jumping jacks next to Hanamaki and Matsukawa, while Oikawa stayed by the third years on the other side of the gym.

“Rumor has it, he was considered one of the best middle school setters in Japan,” Hanamaki said when he caught Iwaizumi’s stare.

Iwaizumi hummed. “Is that so?”

“Yep. But it doesn’t make up for his shitty personality,” Matsukawa pointed out. Even as he spoke, Oikawa was rolling his eyes at some of the out of shape first years who were struggling with the warm up.

“I don’t like that guy,” Hanamaki said, getting on the floor to do pushups when the captain instructed them to switch things up.

Iwaizumi grunted, putting his strong forearms to good use. He thought back to the Oikawa he knew in elementary school, and the adventures they’d go on and the jokes they shared. “I don’t know,” he said uncertainly, not willing to let go of the good times he had shared with Oikawa. “He can’t be that bad.”

* * *

While school was easy for Iwaizumi in elementary school, this was _high_ school. He had entrance exams to worry about in three years. It was important that he stayed focused and got the most out of his teachers’ lectures. However, it was only the first week of class, and already Iwaizumi couldn’t pay attention.

All he could think about was seeing Oikawa the day before.

Oikawa looked _so much healthier_ than when Iwaizumi had seen him last. He always thought that if he ever saw Oikawa again, he would be short and weedy. His bones used to stick out at all angles, and his legs had been thinner than Iwaizumi’s arms. It was hard to picture him with any weight on him.

But now he was tall –taller than Iwaizumi, he was pretty sure- and he was strong. He was well developed for a first year, a clear indication that he had been well fed. Iwaizumi wasn’t an emotional person, but it almost made him feel like crying. He was so thankful that Oikawa got to eat.

There were so many indicators that told Iwaizumi things had gotten better for Oikawa. His cheeks had color; his hair was shiny and clean. It was so relieving, and Iwaizumi was beyond grateful to whoever had cared for Oikawa so well.

However, just like there were indicators that Oikawa was feeling better, there were also things that made Iwaizumi worried. Oikawa’s eyes didn’t sparkle anymore, not like they used to. He didn’t seem happy. He just seemed cool and distant.

It had been years, but Iwaizumi couldn’t drop the habit of worrying about Oikawa, even if the other boy claimed he didn’t remember him.

But did Iwaizumi need to worry about Oikawa? Apparently, he was ridiculously popular, if the way he spoke and held himself had anything to say about it. Surely, he must have tons of friends who were willing to take care of him. Iwaizumi should be happy that at least people were paying attention to Oikawa now.

He should also be happy about the ridiculous coincidence that he and Oikawa had not only chosen the same school, but also the same _sport._ Apparently, they had been best friends for a reason. They really did think alike.

“Hey, so I found out all about that kid from Class 6. The really attractive one?”

“You don’t even have to specify, I know _exactly_ who you’re talking about. He’s so _cute!”_

Iwaizumi dropped his head onto his desk. Now there was _definitely_ now way he would be able to focus. The girls behind him were driving him _crazy_.

“Right, well I learned his name. And it’s so perfect, it’s such a great name, everything about him is great, I can’t even-“

“Just tell us!”

“Right, it’s Oikawa Tooru, and you won’t _believe_ the rumors.”

* * *

“They say he’s had seventeen girlfriends,” Hanamaki panted. Iwaizumi was just as winded. In middle school, they hadn’t done this much conditioning, but at Aobajōsai, they weren’t even allowed to _touch_ a volleyball before they had run at least ten laps around the school building.

They were currently on lap five.

The only thing distracting Iwaizumi from his burning lungs was Oikawa. The other boy was running a couple yards ahead of the rest of the first years. He hadn’t even broken a sweat yet; it was amazing. Apparently, Iwaizumi’s staring was obvious.

“Seventeen?” Iwaizumi asked, wiping sweat from his forehead.

“Yep. Seventeen. And that’s just his _girlfriends_. He’s been on dates with more girls than that,” Hanamaki said. “Also, fuck, where’s Mattsun?”

Iwaizumi turned around, running backwards despite how out of breath he was. Matsukawa was near the back of the line. He looked like a tomato; he was so red faced. The toes of his sneakers kept catching on the sidewalk. “Found him.”

Hanamaki looked over his shoulder and snickered. He turned around. “Oi, Matt-tan! Keep up, buddy. We’re leaving you behind!” he shouted. Matsukawa groaned loud enough for Iwaizumi and Hanamaki to hear.

Iwaizumi laughed, stumbling over himself to face front. All too quickly, however, he found himself staring at Oikawa again. He had so many questions. Seeing Oikawa now –after so much time had passed- had made all kinds of anxiety resurge in Iwaizumi. All of his worries and fears for Oikawa had been brought to the surface again, and he couldn’t help but keep a close eye on him. He wanted to be there if Oikawa needed him, even if they weren’t close anymore.

“Is there a reason you keep staring?” Hanamaki asked, breaking through Iwaizumi’s thoughts.

Iwaizumi coughed into his elbow. “No,” he replied without thinking. His eyes widened. “I mean, I’m not staring. I’m just... looking.”

“You’re looking,” Hanamaki repeated.

“Yes?”

Hanamaki stared at Iwaizumi for a second. For a minute, all Iwaizumi could hear was their strained breathing and the soles of their shoes on the pavement. Hanamaki turned away from him as he spoke. “You know... You were pretty weird when he first came into practice. I could have sworn I overhead you saying that you knew him when you rushed over.”

Iwaizumi grunted. “That’s strange. I wonder why you thought you heard that,” he said. He wasn’t one for keeping secrets, but he had a feeling that Oikawa wouldn’t want any of the other first years knowing the history they shared. It seemed like Oikawa was very careful about what he let other people know about him. Iwaizumi wouldn’t share any information he wasn’t supposed to, even if that meant hiding their past together. He had already broken Oikawa’s trust once.

“I wonder why you’re being so sneaky,” Hanamaki said.

Iwaizumi kept his expression as neutral as possible. He was used to keeping a straight face, anyway. “Life is full of questions.”

They stared at each other for a couple seconds before they both started laughing. Something about looking at each other so seriously for so long had Iwaizumi’s sides in stitches. Hanamaki was practically doubled over; he was laughing so hard. It looked absolutely ridiculous to see him run while he was bent in half. Hanamaki smacked him on the back as he straightened out. “You’re a goofy kid, Iwaizumi. I can’t wait to have you all figured out,” he wheezed, wiping tears and sweat out of his eyes. “You know what, because I like you, I’ll tell you everything I know about Oikawa.”

“You know things?” Iwaizumi asked, surprised. As far as he knew, Oikawa and Hanamaki weren’t in the same class. Word must travel fast around here.

“Only a few things. No one seems to really know any details,” Hanamaki said. “All I know is that he’s dated a ton of girls, but he never gets close to them. There were actually more girls in his class last year that he _had_ kissed versus hadn’t kissed. Also, at least six different guys have _claimed_ to catch him crying in a bathroom stall, but you know how these rumor mills are. And finally, he’s an incredible setter, but he’s had to work hard for it. He almost had to sit out in his last tournament because of this wonky knee he has? He overworks it, apparently.”

Honestly, that didn’t sound like the Oikawa Iwaizumi used to know. When they were younger, Oikawa had been so bright and cheerful. He didn’t work hard on anything, he opened his heart to everyone, and he would never date a girl he wasn’t serious about.

“He overworks his knee?” Iwaizumi asked because of _course_ that was the only thing he paid attention to. It had been years. Oikawa had his grandmother taking care of him. Hell, Oikawa didn’t even _remember_ him.

But Iwaizumi still cared.

“I mean... That’s what people _say_ , anyway. I wouldn’t really know,” Hanamaki replied. “But dude. Let’s talk later. I need to focus on breathing now,” he said.

Iwaizumi snorted. “Fair enough.” Sweat was literally dripping into Iwaizumi’s eyes. He should probably focus on breathing, too.

* * *

It had been a few days of practice, and Iwaizumi still hadn’t managed to really talk with Oikawa. The only time they ever spoke was when Iwaizumi called or a toss or when Oikawa asked for advice on how he could set him up better.

It was awkward.

Oikawa was difficult to talk to. He couldn’t hold a conversation. Hanamaki and Matsukawa wrote him off as being stuck up. After all in the first week of school, he had managed to become the most popular guy in their grade, and it was obvious that he knew it.

However, Iwaizumi had a feeling there were other reasons Oikawa ducked out of conversations quickly. He was hiding something. The people who were the most popular -who needed attention more than anyone- were _always_ the kind of people who kept secrets.

Iwaizumi knew some of Oikawa’s story, if not all of it. That was probably why he had been so careful to avoid talking to Iwaizumi. During practice, Oikawa was always hanging around next to their captain, and afterwards, he somehow managed to leave before anyone else. It made it impossible for Iwaizumi to speak with him privately.

But today was Iwaizumi’s lucky day.

“Okay.” Their captain –Morioka Shiro- clapped to get the team’s attention. They were currently all crammed into the clubroom in various states of undress as they changed out of their practice clothes. Everyone paused to listen to Morioka. “Today, I’m treating everyone to popsicles.” He paused to accommodate the team’s cheering. He put his hands up after a moment to quiet them. “But just because we’re leaving the gym, that doesn’t mean practice is over. I’m only paying because I want to give us all the chance to talk and get to know each other better. A team needs to be cohesive. We have to be well acquainted to make that happen,” he said.

Iwaizumi smiled over at the third years he had yet to talk to: Kaneo, Motomu, and Heisuke. He was sure there would be time to get to know them, but his first priority was Oikawa.

As soon as Morioka was done talking and Iwaizumi was done changing, he weaved through his teammates to find him. However, when he reached Oikawa, the other boy was already caught up in a conversation with their captain.

“Are you sure I have to come?”

“Yes, it’s mandatory,” Morioka replied. “And I don’t know why you _wouldn’t_ want to come, it’s a free popsicle.”

Oikawa’s face screwed up. His expression looked pained, like the idea of hanging out with the rest of the team hurt him. “But I have other plans,” he replied. “I’m supposed to go on a date today.”

Morioka arched an eyebrow. “I’m sure they would understand, if you explained that your captain is making you stay late. Which I am. I am definitely _making_ you stay,” the captain promised with a smirk.

Iwaizumi bit back a smile. He appreciated Morioka’s no excuses attitude. He had been a good captain so far, even if it was too soon for Iwaizumi to really form an opinion.

Oikawa looked cool and collected, but his feet gave him away. Iwaizumi noted the way he smashed his toes together. He could remember Oikawa having similar anxious tics when he was younger, and he wondered how many of them he had kept growing up.

“Okay... Okay, do you mind if I just call her to explain real fast? I don’t want to leave her waiting for me,” Oikawa said.

Morioka nodded. “Go ahead.”

 _Shoot_. Iwaizumi had been hoping to corner Oikawa and ask him to walk together before the team started towards the convenience store, but it looked like that wouldn’t happen as Oikawa stepped out to make a phone call.

He sighed and ended up falling in step with the other first years. He was so disappointed, he didn’t even hear their conversation until they started talking about a very Oikawa-friendly topic: constellations.

“All I’m saying is that I’ve never seen the Little Dipper. The Big Dipper? Sure. I point it out nearly every time I go outside, but I can never find the little one,” Kaneo complained.

“What? But it’s like... right next to the big one,” Heisuke said dryly. Heisuke always sounded exhausted when he spoke, like everyone around him was too taxing for him to handle.

“Well even if it is, it’s like... seven random stars. How am I supposed to know which ones matter and which ones don’t?” Kaneo questioned.

Iwaiuzmi perked up, noticing Oikawa walking alone a few paces behind them. “Hey, you know who probably knows? Oikawa! He knows all kinds of stuff about space. He’s a genius when it comes to stars, and aliens, and stuff,” Iwaizumi said, trying to open up a spot for Oikawa in the conversation.

Hanamaki looked at Iwaizumi with a strange smile curling up his face. “Is he?” Hanamaki asked. “And how do you know that?”

“He doesn’t know that,” Oikawa snapped. He cut in before Iwaizumi could answer. “I don’t know anything about space, that kind of stuff is for nerds.”

Iwaizumi’s friends all rolled their eyes. Kaeno quickly returned to their conversation, complaining about how Orion’s Belt was only three dots. (“Why does it have to be _those_ three stars, when it could be _any_ three stars?”)

Meanwhile, Iwaizumi’s heart dropped to his stomach. How could Oikawa not like space anymore? He had always loved space!

Iwaizumi slowed his pace so that he fell into step beside Oikawa. The other first years didn’t seem to notice him ducking away. “I think knowing a lot about space is cool. It shows how smart you are,” he said, reopening the conversation.

“Iwaizumi, no offense, but you obviously don’t know anything about what’s cool and what isn’t,” Oikawa sang, his eyes trained on his cellphone. There was a happy lilt to his voice despite the insults coming out of his mouth.

Iwaizumi’s nose twitched. Fair enough. He had never cared much about keeping up with the latest trends, but he didn’t need Oikawa insulting him for it. “But it’s okay to _like_ something,” he said.

Oikawa laughed. “Sure.”

Iwaizumi eyebrows furrowed together at Oikawa’s tone. “Tooru... People can’t judge you for liking something,” he said.

Oikawa finally looked up from his phone only to glare at Iwaizumi. “Don’t call me Tooru,” he said, voice tight. For a second, Iwaizumi could have sworn there was something other than anger in the other boy’s eyes –something like fear- but it was gone the second it came.

Iwaizumi reached out to put a hand on Oikawa’s shoulder anyway. “I’m sorry, I just-“

“You just are weirdly obsessed with me, is what you are,” Oikawa said, rolling his eyes and going back to his phone. He muttered under his breath, “I swear, this school is full of freaks.”

Iwaizumi dropped his hand and decided to give up. He jogged to catch up with the other first years, leaving Oikawa to text all of his _real_ friends. Iwaizumi tried to invest himself in their conversation -Heisuke had just started a rant about stag beetles- but it only served to remind him of bug hunting with Oikawa when they were younger. So much had changed.

Oikawa wasn't the same dorky, alien-loving nine-year-old.

For starters, he was taller. He was also colder, more distant, more calculating. Iwaizumi can practically see the tall, tall wall he had built around himself, and he was transported back to the days where they used to make moats in the sand together and go hunting for tadpoles. He used to be inside Oikawa's walls, but now, he was on the outside looking in, just like everybody else.

* * *

When Iwaizumi came home from getting popsicles with the team, he was obviously upset.

The kind of insults Oikawa had thrown at him... Usually that sort of thing wouldn’t have any kind of effect on Iwaizumi. He didn’t care about what other people thought about him. He had made plenty of friends without ever pretending to be something he wasn’t. And if it had been anyone other than Oikawa who had said those things to him, then Iwaizumi wouldn’t have minded.

But it _had_ been Oikawa.

All Iwaizumi could think about was the day he left, when he had screamed at him from his car seat. Oikawa had said he _hated_ him.

Only now did that feel real. Oikawa had thrown away everything Iwaizumi had ever done for him, kicked him out of his life without a second thought. One minute they were best friends, the next strangers. Oikawa pretended like he didn’t even remember him.

Iwaizumi slammed his front door closed behind him, and his mother called out to him from the living room. “Hajime? Love, is that you?” she shouted. “Come say hello!”

Iwaizumi sighed and kicked off his shoes. When he walked into the living room, his mom was looking up at him over her glasses. There was a Sudoku in her lap, but her pencil was tucked behind her ear as she looked at her son.

“Rough day?” she asked, and Iwaizumi collapsed on the couch next to her.

“The worst so far this year,” he answered. His mom wrinkled her nose when he stuck his feet in her lap.

“No bad day makes it okay for you to put your smelly stocks anywhere near me,” she complained, pushing at his ankles. Iwaizumi pulled his knees to his chest –half to get his feet away from his mom and half because he felt _awful_ \- and his mother put her Sudoku down on the coffee table. She turned to face him. “Do you wanna talk about it?”

Iwaizumi groaned and hid his face behind his knees. Some days, he wished he could be an ostrich and bury his head in the sand.

He was embarrassed. He had been worrying about Oikawa for so long, but it was clear now that Iwaizumi meant absolutely nothing to Tooru. He felt so stupid. It was hard, though, to go from worrying, worrying, worrying to completely disconnected. He wanted to make sure Oikawa was okay, but suddenly that was a bad thing.

“So... So do you remember my friend Tooru? From elementary school?” he asked, not sure how to talk about it all. His mom knew how hard it had been on him when Oikawa left. She didn’t know that he still thought about it.

When he looked up, his mom had pushed her reading glasses up to rest on the top of her head. “Of course,” she replied. She looked nervous. Iwaizumi had been as depressed as a fourth grader could be when Oikawa had left. His name had left a mark on their whole family.

“So... So, I think he’s on my volleyball team.”

“You _think?_ ”

“Okay, I _know_ ,” Iwaizumi said, correcting himself. He ran a hand through his hair. “But he’s pretending like he has no idea who I am. And, like... whenever I try to talk to him, he acts like I’m being creepy, or lying, or... I don’t even _know_ what, but it’s like he _hates_ me, mom. I hate that he hates me.”

“Wait, okay, hold on,” his mom said, shifting so that she was sitting totally sideways on the couch, her legs folded underneath her. She leaned forward, resting her arm on the back of the sofa. “First, do you know how he is? Has he been eating? Has he ben taken care of?”

Iwaizumi’s heartbeat slows down slightly. His mom was so great; of course she was worried about Oikawa’s health first, just like he had been. “Yeah, he’s definitely been eating. I think he’s taller than me,” he answered. “And he certainly seems he’s doing all right. He’s really good at volleyball, from what I’ve seen. He’s a setter, and he tosses to me well. And all the girls like him, they rave about him all the time, and the guys that aren’t jealous of him are just as obsessed. Apparently, everybody wants to be his best friend.... I don’t know. He seems fine, just super conceited.”

His mom relaxed a little bit. “Okay... Okay. So physically he’s all right, but emotionally he’s no good,” she replied.

Iwaizumi frowned. “What do you mean?”

“Well, I can’t imagine how that kind of neglect must have affected that boy. He was alone for so long, he probably feels so unlovable,” she mused. She reached out and rubbed Iwaizumi’s ankle a little bit. “I’m sure he remembers who you are, but it’s probably hard for him to think about the time when you two were friends.”

Iwaizumi nodded and looked down at his toes. He had a lot of memories from fourth grade, but Iwaizumi had been taking care of Oikawa in most of them. While he had felt fine, Oikawa must have been feeling _awful_. After all, he had been _starving._

“You’re right,” Iwaizumi agreed, thinking for a moment. “You’re right, but... But I still wish he _liked_ me,” he said, face crumbling. Everything felt awful. Oikawa was on the top of his list of things going wrong, but Iwaizumi was also having a hard time at Aobajōsai for other reasons. He didn’t have any close friends at school. Hanamaki and Matsukawa were nice, but he hardly knew them and they had obviously been friends for a long time. He felt so lonely, and even though it was just Oikawa who was being mean to him, it felt like the whole world hated him. Iwaizumi hid his face back in his legs. “I just wished _someone_ liked me,” he said, voice cracking.

His mom cooed. “Oh, sweetheart... Oh, honey, people like you. I’m _sure_ people like you.”

 _“No._ ”

“ _Yes_. You’re just in a new place; it’s going to take a little while before you make good friends. Just give it a few weeks, you’ll feel right at home,” his mom promised. Iwaizumi didn’t answer, but his shoulders shook as he held back tears. He’d never been much of a crier –especially in front of other people- but he really _did_ have a terrible day. His mom carded her fingers through his hair. “Hajime, you’re a likable boy, you know that. You don’t need to worry about making friends.”

“But I _do_ need to worry about Oikawa,” Iwaizumi replied, sniffling. He squeezed a hand between his legs and his face so he could wipe his nose off on his sleeve.

His mom finger-combed his hair caringly. “You’ve always had to worry about Oikawa,” she said. “What’s worrying just a little bit more?”

* * *

“Oh, oh, oh! Fuck!” Hanamaki swore. He tossed his Wii controller onto the ground. Iwaizumi had just forced him off of Rainbow Road. This was definitely the most vicious game of Mario Kart he had ever played, and Iwaizumi tossed a green shell at Princess Peach in a desperate attempt to keep himself alive. Meanwhile, Matsukawa cracked his melon-flavored bubble gum as he crossed the finish line in first place.

Iwaizumi was in twelfth.

“See? This is why I hate playing games with Matsukawa. He _always_ wins,” Hanamaki complained.

Matsukawa blew a bubble in Iwaizumi’s direction. “You wanna rematch?” he asked, calmly.

Iwaizumi thought for a moment. “What’s the score?”

“Sixteen to two.”

“Then no,” Iwaizumi replied, setting his controller down next to Hanamaki’s. “I think we would all benefit from doing something else. Video games rot your brain anyway,” he said, although he didn’t really believe it. Mostly he just wanted to save face in front of his newest –and closest- friends.

When Hanamaki had asked him to hang out after practice, Iwaizumi hadn’t felt sure about it. He wasn’t great at spending a lot of one-on-one time with people he didn’t know very well. However, he didn’t know _anyone_ well at Aobajōsai yet. He needed every opportunity he could get to strengthen his friendships with the few people he had gotten close to. Even if he wanted to say no to Hanamaki, his social life just couldn’t handle it right now.

Fortunately, Hanamaki and Matsukawa had proven themselves to be pretty cool. They hadn’t really been talking, just swearing at the TV while they played video games. Basically, it had been Iwaizumi’s perfect afternoon.

“If we’re not going to play Mario Kart, then what do you want to do?” Hanamaki asked.

“Mario Party?” Matsukawa suggested, and Hanamaki smacked him with a couch cushion.

“No,” Hanamaki replied angrily, holding the cushion tightly in one hand. He was practically making a fist. Matsukawa made a whining noise before chucking a pillow right back at Hanamaki.

Iwaizumi decided to intervene. He was sitting between his fighting friends, and he wasn’t enjoying it. “What about a game, yeah? Like... like, maybe a talking game? I know a fun one!” he said, trying to distract them both.

Hanamaki arched an eyebrow, but Iwaizumi noticed his hand unclench around his pillow. “What’s the game?” he asked, intrigued. Iwaizumi clapped his hands together, feeling encouraged. Socializing wasn’t as hard as he remembered it being.

“Right, okay. So. It’s called ‘Essences,’ and it’s like twenty questions, except the questions are unlimited and they’re all open ended.”

“Basically, it’s not like twenty questions at all then,” Matsukawa cut in.

Iwaizumi crinkled his nose. “Well, the objectives are the same,” he justified. “Whoever is ‘it’ thinks of a person, and everyone else has to ask questions and try to guess. But instead of yes or no questions, they all have to be aimed at understanding the _essence_ of a person.” Iwaizumi wrung his hands together in his lap. “So you’d ask things like ‘If they were a color, what color would they be?’ or ‘if they were a dessert what kind of dessert would they be?’” he explained.

“Okay, I get it,” Hanamaki said. “I’m in.”

Matsukawa looked between both Hanamaki and Iwaizumi and sighed. “Okay, fine, I’m in, too. Who goes first?”

“I mean... I’ve got one,” Iwaizumi said. “So if you guys think you’ve got it, you can start asking me questions.”

“All right, if this person was a tree, what kind of tree would they be?” Matsukawa asked, sprawling out on the floor in a weird attempt at getting comfortable. Iwaizumi stared at him for a second before shaking himself out of it.

“Um... Maybe one of those upside down trees like they have in Africa? He’s a little weird.”

“Aha!” Hanamaki exclaimed. “You said he! So they’re a boy! A boy that is an upside-down tree.” He looked disproportionately excited compared to the amount of information he had learned, but Iwaizumi wasn’t about to ruin his confidence. “If this upside-down-tree-boy was a piece of furniture, what piece of furniture would he be?”

“Oh, a hammock. No question,” Iwaizumi replied immediately. “They like to relax and lounge around, but they shouldn’t be stuck inside and they’re definitely not any _normal_ piece of furniture.”

Hanamaki tapped his chin in thought, while Matsukawa moved on to another question. “What kind of animal would they be?” he asked.

Iwaizumi squinted at Matsukawa. “Maybe... Maybe a pigeon? But one of the homing kinds.”

“Shit,” Hanamaki said, sitting up abruptly. “It’s Matsukawa isn’t it?”

Iwaizumi blinked, impressed that Hanamaki had gotten it so quickly his first time playing the game. He scratched the back of his neck. “I mean, yeah. You’re right,” he said, shocked.

Matsukawa leaned up on his elbows. “Excuse me, wait a minute. How did you think of _me_ from an upside down tree, a hammock, and a homing pigeon?” he asked. He sounded and _looked_ insulted.

Hanamaki snickered. “Dude, every time I see a pigeon, I think of you.”

“Hanamaki, I fucking hate you.”

“You’re just grumpy because I finally beat you at something,” Hanamaki replied, sticking his tongue out. “And because I won, it’s my turn to pick a person. So go on! Start asking me questions,” he demanded. Iwaizumi tilted his head to the side. Sometimes Hanamaki could be a little bossy, what with all the demands he made. Fortunately, Iwaizumi was good at handling challenging people.

“Okay,” Iwaizumi agreed easily. “If this person was a type of flower, what kind of flower would they be?”

“Ugh, an orchid,” Hanamki replied. “But not a pretty an elegant one. More like a super loud and ostentatious one.”

Iwaizumi hummed in response, trying to think of people who met that description. Meanwhile, Matsukawa had his PSP out, totally ignoring them both. He chewed on his bottom lip. Maybe picking Matsukawa to describe hadn’t been the best idea. He hoped the other boy really was just upset he lost and that Iwaizumi hadn’t hurt his feelings. He distracted himself from his guilt by further indulging Hanamaki. “Okay... And if this person was a type of shoe, what kind of shoe would they be?”

This seemed to trip Hanamaki up, and he was quiet for a moment as he thought. “Probably... Probably one of those mirrored dress shoes, you know? The kind where you walk around looking like you have disco balls for feet? Or, I don’t know, any other shoe that gets all up in your face.”

“It’s gotta be Oikawa,” Matsukawa said, not looking up from his PSP. “There’s no way it’s _not_ Oikawa.”

Hanamaki laughed. “You’re right, you’re right.”

“Of course I’m right. Have you noticed that he _always_ does his warm ups _right_ under the captain’s nose?” Matsukawa asked, rolling over to lie on his stomach. Iwaizumi was pretty sure he could see Nintendogs up on his screen. For all the video games Hanamaki and Matsukawa played, they never played very good ones.

“Or how he always has to be in front when he run laps?” Hanamaki tacked on. “It’s like he _sprints_ the whole time just so we can all be impressed with how fast he is.”

Matsukawa snorted. “And that cocky smirk after a good serve-“

“Okay!” Iwaizumi yelped, cutting them both off. His eyes widened when he realized his outburst; he hadn’t _actually_ wanted to do that. However, it was difficult to listen to his friends talk badly about Oikawa after realizing how insecure and lonely he must feel. He had always thought that popular people seemed plastic, but only now was Iwaizumi realizing that maybe they _had_ to be a little fake sometimes. Maybe they had no other choice.

“What?” Hanamaki asked, climbing off the couch to lie on top of Matsukawa. As much as they bantered and fought, they certainly were tactile.

Iwaizumi scratched the back of his neck. “I don’t know... I know he’s attention-seeking, but maybe he has a good reason,” he said. Matsukawa snorted again, and Iwaizumi put his hands up in self-defense. “No, listen, there’s got to be a reason that he needs people _constantly_ validating him.”

“But that doesn’t make it less annoying,” Matsukawa muttered under his breath. He didn’t look at all bothered to be crushed by someone taller and heavier than him, even when Hanamaki sat up on top of him.

Something sparked in Hanamaki’s eye. “Why does it always seem like you know more about Oikawa than the rest of us? You definitely didn’t go to the same middle school, and you don’t live anywhere near each other.”

Iwaizumi shrugged his shoulders. “I dunno... I just think we should be nice to him. Maybe we should try to make friends. As much as everyone texts him and follows him around, I don’t think he has any, like... _real_ people in his life.”

Matsukawa finally looked up from his game. He stared hard at Iwaizumi, and Hanamaki looked at him just as seriously.

“Okay... Okay, I’m in,” Matsukawa said. He twisted around to look pointedly at Hanamaki. “We’re _both_ in.”

Iwaizumi beamed. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Matsukawa said, nodding. “It seems important to you. Plus, I need to work on my receives, and it would be good to have Oikawa serves to practice with.”

“I thought you didn’t care about volleyball,” Hanamaki said, waggling his finger in Matsukawa’s face. Mattsun only slapped his hand away.

“Shut up. It’s more fun than I thought it would be, okay?”

Iwaizumi couldn’t stop smiling. Volleyball _was_ a lot of fun, and now that the first years finally had a shot at being friends, he was twice as excited to be part of Aobajōsai’s team.

* * *

Iwaizumi peered at Oikawa out of the corner of his eye.

By some miracle, the clubroom was empty other than the two of them. Some girl had stopped Oikawa before he had gotten changed, and Iwaizumi had stayed behind, dragging out getting dressed so he could have a change to speak to Oikawa alone.

After Oikawa pulled on fresh pants, Iwaizumi approached him. He cleared his throat, and Oikawa looked up at him while he rolled on deodorant. “Hey, so... We’re alone.”

Oikawa’s nose scrunched up. “Excuse me?”

Iwaizumi blushed, realizing how creepy he had sounded. He scrubbed his face with both hands. “Um, well... I mean, we haven’t gotten a chance to talk when there’s no people around, and I thought you might want to,” he explained. Hanamaki, Matsukawa and him had all been working to compliment and encourage Oikawa on and off the court lately, but it seemed like all it was doing was going to Oikawa’s big head.

Something needed to change.

Besides, they couldn’t keep dancing around each other like they didn’t have a history, like things weren’t tense between them. It was time to confront their relationship head on. Even if Iwaizumi had to ambush Oikawa like this to make it happen, they were going to talk about their feelings.

“Why would I want to do that?” Oikawa asked, tilting his head to the side. He looked so condescending. Iwaizumi’s nose twitched.

“I mean... I think the reason’s obvious.”

“Not really,” Oikawa replied. He looked cool and collected, but Iwaizumi could see a bead of sweat dripping behind his ear, and he knew –he _knew-_ that Oikawa knew just who he was and just what he wanted.

“Oikawa, you _know_ me. You’ve been pretending we’re strangers for the past two weeks, but I _know_ that you know me. You’d _have_ to remember me.”

Oikawa didn’t say anything, just looked at his toes. His features didn’t change, but Iwaizumi could read the terror in the other boy’s eyes. He was scared. “I don’t,” he answered curtly. Iwaizumi watched him school his expression into something calmer, and he looked up only to stare at Iwaizumi down the bridge of his nose. “I only remember _important_ people.”

“That’s a load of crap, Oikawa,” Iwaizumi said, his hands turning into fists. “You can’t act like our friendship wasn’t important to you back then. We did _everything_ together! Saving tadpoles, catching bugs, playing tag... that’s all important to elementary schoolers, and it was important to me. It was important to _you!_ ”

Oikawa didn’t say anything.

Iwaizumi waited, but Oikawa still didn’t open his mouth, didn’t acknowledge him in any way. Iwaizumi sighed. “Look, I get it. You’re mad that I told someone what was happening when you trusted me, but-“

Iwaizumi was cut off when Oikawa shoved him. _Hard._

He toppled backwards, tripping over a gym bag and slamming into the shelving unit behind him. “Wha-“

“You have no _idea_ why I was mad!” Oikawa replied, his face screwed up. “It wouldn’t have mattered if you told and I didn’t have to-“ Oikawa looked off to the side, crossing his arms over his chest defensively. “You know what? You have to stop talking to me. I didn’t ask for you to come back into my life, and I never wanted you to.”

Iwaizumi straightened up. “So... So you _do_ remember me?”

Oikawa face twisted up. “Who cares?! It doesn’t matter if I remember you or not! We’re not friends, I _hate_ you, there’s no way I’m talking to you more than the bare minimum. I can’t stand being around you! We might as well be strangers!” Oikawa yelled, panting by the time he was finished.

They both stood frozen for a second, Oikawa glaring and Iwaizumi staring back with wide eyes.

In the end, it was Oikawa who moved first, gathering his things up swiftly and practically running out of the clubroom. He left his deodorant. Iwaizumi picked it up shakily, his breath catching.

His hand tightened around the deodorant, and tears sprung into Iwaizumi’s eyes. It was the most unromantic thing he could have ever picked up, but for some reason, he related way too much to this stupid stick. They were both left behind.

Iwaizumi never thought he’d feel this nauseous over a stick of deodorant, but apparently there was a first time for everything.

* * *

“Hey, you seem off today,” Hanamaki said, clapping Iwaizumi on the back in the middle of practice. Iwaizumi let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He spun a volleyball around in his hands.

“That... I mean... Yeah?” he replied, flustered. He normally smoothed over his emotions with something akin to raw anger, but it was hard to keep a level head when Oikawa was so close to him.

Hanamaki laughed a little. “If you’re asking me, then yes. I think there’s definitely something up with you,” he said lightly. He looked worried, despite the grin on his face. Iwaizumi had given this look countless times, but he had never received it. It made his chest tighten up uncomfortably.

“You’re right,” he said honestly. Hanamaki was becoming too good a friend to lie to. “But I don’t think I can tell you about it just yet.”

Their coach yelled at them for fooling around from the sidelines. They were supposed to be practicing serves. Iwaizumi tossed his ball up in the air and gave his best jump serve with all of his strength. His coach nodded at him in approval, but honestly, his serve had nothing on Oikawa’s.

It was starting to feel like Oikawa would always have the upper hand.

* * *

However, as perfect as some people may seem, no one could maintain such a flawless image for long. It was only a matter of time before Oikawa cracked.

And naturally, Iwaizumi was there to see it.

It was just after his third class of the day: Geography. Iwaizumi was in the school bathroom, washing his hands when he heard sniffling. It had been years since he had heard someone sniffle quite like that, and Iwaizumi felt dread wash over him as he realized just what was happening.

He snuck up next to the stall where the sound was coming from and put his ear on the door. Someone was definitely crying.

Correction: _Oikawa_ was definitely crying.

Iwaizumi knocked tentatively on the stall door. “Hey,” he said awkwardly. “Hey, are you all right in there?” There was no answer, only silence. Iwaizumi huffed out a sigh. “Oikawa, I know it’s you.”

The door swung open, and before Iwaizumi could process what was going on, a hand grabbed the front of his shirt and pulled him into the stall. The door slammed close behind him, and arms wrapped around his neck like tentacles.

Iwaizumi didn’t get the chance to see his face, but he knew it was Oikawa. He was just as clingy as he had always been. The only difference was that he was bigger now, and his limbs were longer. He was practically suffocating Iwaizumi.

It took a moment to get over his shock, but eventually he looped his arms around Oikawa, rubbing his back a bit as the taller boy cried into his shoulder. He scratched between his shoulder blades. “Hey, what’s wrong? What happened?”

Oikawa didn’t answer, just wept into his shoulder.

After a minute or two, Iwaizumi tried to sneak a peak at his watch. They didn’t have much time before their next class started. Oikawa seemed to know it, too, and he managed to choke down his tears. With two minutes to spare, he reached down to rip off a piece of toilet paper and dry his eyes with it.

Iwaizumi watched as Oikawa went from snot-covered, crying mess to his usual, put-together self. It was crazy, how fast he managed to pull himself together. It was as if he had practice. Iwaizumi thought back to the rumor Hanamaki had told him. Allegedly six people had walked in on Oikawa crying in the bathroom. Maybe that wasn’t quite the made-up rumor everyone thought it was.

“Tooru,” Iwaizumi said, a thousand questions on the tip of his tongue. However, Oikawa cut him off. He put a hand over Iwaizumi’s mouth, looking at him contemplatively for a moment.

Oikawa bit his lip before speaking. “Don’t call me Tooru,” he said eventually. He picked up his bag from the ground. Oikawa didn’t look at Iwaizumi as he left the stall. “I have to get to class.”

Iwaizumi remained still for a moment –confused- before he realized Oikawa was leaving. He hadn’t even explained why he was crying!

Iwaizumi scrambled out of the bathroom stall to follow after Oikawa, but the second he made it out the door, he was met by a rather large group of teenage boys. All eyes immediately turned towards Iwaizumi. The implications of what had just happened weren’t lost on him. He had just walked out of a bathroom stall with _the_ Oikawa Tooru.

Iwaizumi blushed and kept his head down. He could already hear whispers behind him as he left the restroom. He had a feeling there would be some new rumors floating around the school today, but Iwaizumi wasn’t interested in any of them.

All he cared about was Oikawa.

He jogged to catch up with the other boy and grabbed his wrist. “Hey, Oikawa, slow down, all right?” he begged but Oikawa pulled his hand away.

“Don’t touch me.”

Iwaizumi flushed, but he wasn’t about to let Oikawa turn away from him again. “That’s not what you were saying one minute ago,” Iwaizumi said loudly enough to turn some heads. Oikawa’s head whipped around. He looked hurt for all of a half a second, before his usual cool expression took over.

“I think I was saying something about needing to get to class a minute ago,” Oikawa said smoothly, looking down at his watch. If Iwaizumi hadn’t been holding him a few seconds ago, he would have never believed that Oikawa had been crying. He looked so calm and collected. Iwaizumi wondered how many times Oikawa had tricked people into thinking he was fine when he had just been bawling his eyes out. “And would you look at that? Class is almost starting,” he said, feigning surprise. “Talk to you later, _Iwa-chan_.”

Iwaizumi blushed angrily. He didn’t want to let such a stupid nickname get under his skin, but it didn’t sound right. Oikawa had always called him “Iwa-chan” affectionately, not out of spite. Whatever Oikawa was going through, it didn’t justify him treating Iwaizumi like a dick.

Getting to the bottom of all of this had better be worth it. Iwaizumi wasn’t about to try to break through Oikawa’s walls, only for the other boy not to treat him well. They had been best friends. Iwaizumi would do anything to get their friendship back on track, but he wasn’t about to subject himself to three years of Oikawa insulting him.

Oikawa had better give him a huge apology by the time all of this was over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay so I'm just... not super confident about this chapter. 
> 
> It's the hard part -obviously- where Oikawa is 100% in his shell. As this thing develops though, he'll like... be more and more open. And he and Iwaizumi will get to do all of these cute little things. And I have all these absolute messes planned, and that'll be really fun... 
> 
> It'll get better and better as it goes. Next chapter should be much more fun, and I'll want to write it more, so hopefully the quality will be better. 
> 
> I'm sorry if this wasn't very good! 
> 
> Thanks for reading!


	3. A Foot in the Door

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So Kaneo, Motomu, and Heisuke are all active third years but I’m pretty sure they’re only really mentioned in the manga (Kaneo has like... a little moment where he’s proud of this team mates and he’s animated for like a hot second). 
> 
> I included them a lot more in this chapter than last chapter because this AU is a little awkward? There aren’t really any characters to include outside of the Seijoh third year starters, so I got a little creative! 
> 
> I don’t want the whole fic to just be Oikawa, Iwaizumi, Makki and Mattie. I felt like it needed more people so I’m sorry if you guys don’t like them! I did try to characterize them a little bit to make them fun, and like... their own people. They’re not OCs, they’re in the Haikyuu canon universe, I’ve just taken some liberties so like...  
> AH.
> 
> If you guys all aren’t into them, they don’t have to be in next chapter very much, I just felt like this chapter needed something, and more dumb boys felt like the answer.

The next time Iwaizumi used the bathroom at school, he got stopped at the urinal. He was just zipping up his pants, when someone threw a hand up against his chest. “Hey!”

“Can I help you?” Iwazumi asked, smacking the other boy’s hand away. Iwaizumi didn’t recognize him. He still didn’t know very many people in his _class_ , let alone his year.

“Yeah,” the kid snapped, narrowing his eyes. “You’re that guy who snuck off into a bathroom stall with Oikawa-kun, aren’t you? What the hell was that all about?” he demanded.

Iwaizumi’s nose twitched. He hated people putting their nose into his business, but he _loathed_ when people tried to poke around into Oikawa’s life. Iwaizumi was _fierce_ when he was protective. This kid didn’t know who he was dealing with.

“If it were any of your concern, you’d already know by now, wouldn’t you?” Iwaizumi asked, shoving past the other boy to get to the sinks.

Iwaizumi had known people would talk after he and Oikawa were _clearly_ seen exiting out of the same stall. He just hadn’t thought anyone would actually _confront_ him about it. His argument with Oikawa in the hallway afterwards probably only further agitated the situation, and now that Iwaizumi was aware that people were talking about him, he could feel everyone’s eyes on him as he washed his hands.

Iwaiuzmi felt like throwing up. This wasn’t the way to fit in at a new school. If anything, Iwaizumi felt completely ostracized. He could only hope that the gossip would die down sooner rather than later, before Iwaizumi’s reputation got away from him.

* * *

“Iwaizumi, is it true that you and Oikawa had sex on the bathroom floor?”

Iwaizumi fumbled with his pencil. He turned around in his seat to face the blushy girl behind him, Aya. Meanwhile, his stomach twisted in knots. “I’m sorry, what? Is that what people are saying?” he asked.

“Um... Yeah,” Aya replied, her cheeks turning pinker than ever.

Iwaizumi’s hand tightened around his pencil, and the wood shattered in his palm. “Well, it’s not true,” Iwaizumi said, keeping his voice steely to hide his panic. “Rumors get blown _way_ out of proportion here.”

Aya tilted her head to the side. She opened her mouth to say something but clearly thought better of it. Iwaizumi thought he was in the clear when she ducked her head to look at her notes, but after a second or two she looked back up with determination in her eyes. “Well, if it _was_ blown out of proportion, then what _were_ you doing in there with him?” she asked.

Iwaizumi wanted to bang his head on his desk. “That’s none of your business,” he replied before twisting back around in his seat. He had better things to do than deal with all of this Oikawa nonsense anyway.

* * *

Matsukawa clapped Iwaizumi on the back before practice started. “So I heard that you and Oikawa got walked in on getting nasty on the floor of the vice principal’s personal bathroom,” he said.

Iwaizumi blinked slowly. “What.”

“I have two things to say to you,” Matsukawa continued on, ignoring Iwaizumi’s confusion. “First, I didn’t think you had it in you to nail someone like Oikawa; he’s _way_ out of your league. Second, how the hell aren’t you expelled?”

“Because it’s not _true_ ,” Iwaizumi said. He kicked at the ground and muttered under his breath. “Geez, you share a bathroom stall _one time_ and suddenly-“

“Wait, wait, wait,” Matsukawa said, waving his hands up to slow Iwaizumi down. “I was just kidding about believing the rumors, but you mean to tell me that you two _actually_ were locked up in a bathroom stall together?”

“Ugh, yes. Why is that such a big deal?!”

“Because it’s _Oikawa_ , who you have absolutely no business being that close to!” Matsukawa explained. “I mean, I know you wanted to work on encouraging him and making him feel like he’s part of the team, but that’s a lot different than sneaking off into the bathroom together! What the hell were you two doing locked up in such a tiny space?”

Iwaizumi sighed. “Who _cares?_ ”

“Everyone!” Matsukawa exclaimed. “Oikawa is like an idol at this school. Everyone wants to know what he’s up to, and now you’ve gotten yourself swept up into it.”

“I’m well aware,” Iwaizumi grumbled, crossing his arms. People had been asking him about his relationship with Oikawa all week. Iwaizumi was trying to protect Oikawa’s privacy by keeping what happened in the bathroom a secret, but it was proving to be more incriminating to give everyone ambiguous answers. Everyone kept warping the story. The rumors were getting more and more ridiculous.

His conversation with Matsukawa ended abruptly when their captain, Morioka, threw open the door to the gym. “Iwaizumi-kun!” he shouted, “What’s this I hear about the principal finding you and Oikawa _naked in the courtyard?”_

Matsukawa burst out laughing, while Iwaizumi felt a blush sweep over his cheeks and down his neck. This was definitely getting out of hand.

* * *

With the nasty rumors spreading around the school, Iwaizumi felt like he couldn’t reach out to Oikawa. If anyone saw them talking, it would only add to the crazy stories people were making up. Even some of the upperclassmen on the team gave Iwaizumi funny looks when Oikawa tossed to him. It was uncomfortable.

However, Oikawa seemed unaffected.

He didn’t like talking to Iwaizumi in the first place; he had made that clear since the first day of practice. Furthermore, Iwaizumi was pretty sure Oikawa was used to how vicious and crazy rumors could be. Their classmates whispered about him constantly between classes, regardless of his alleged relationship with Iwaizumi. He seemed to take it all in stride with his perfect little nose turned upwards.

But Iwaizumi didn’t care about Oikawa’s arrogant attitude. He _knew_ how badly Oikawa must be hurting, and he refused to see Oikawa up on the lonely pedestal he had built for himself. If Iwaizumi couldn’t talk to him, then Hanamaki and Matsukawa certainly could.

“ _So_ ,” Hanamaki started. He sounded focused. They were in the middle of passing drills; everyone was paired up to receive back and forth with each other. Hanamaki had taken the initiative to pair himself with Oikawa while Iwaizumi had paired up with Kaneo. Iwaizumi tried to look focused on Kaneo –he wanted to get to know him better anyway- while he listened in on Hanamaki and Oikawa’s conversation. “You’re a pretty skilled volleyball player, Oikawa. Most people just specialize in one area, but you can do it all.”

“Hm.”

“Your receives are great. Super consistent,” Hanamaki tried again. Iwaizumi was thankful that Hanamaki had agreed to do this for him. It was hard to compliment someone as conceited and ungrateful as Oikawa appeared to be, but Iwaizumi knew that a little kindness could go along way. It was nice of Hanamaki to try for him.

Iwaizumi missed a receive when Hanamaki straightened out next to him. “Hey!” Kaneo yelped, as the ball bounced and rolled away. Iwaizumi didn’t look. Instead, his eyes locked on Oikawa’s.

“Did you set them up to this?” Oikawa asked, holding his and Hanamaki’s volleyball against his hip and cocking his head toward Iwaizumi.

“Excuse me?”

“Iwa-chan, don’t think I don’t know what you’re up to.” Oikawa’s tone was light and airy, but his gaze was hard as stone. “You’ve always liked taking care of me, haven’t you?”

Anger flared up in Iwaizumi’s chest. Now _there_ was an emotion he was comfortable with. His hands tightened up into fists by his side. “You don’t know what you’re talking about,” he spat.

“So you _didn’t_ ask your friends to be nice to me?” Oikawa asked. Iwaizumi didn’t answer. “Because I think you did. I think you asked Hanamaki and Matsukawa to go out of their way for me, but I don’t need it. I _have_ friends, Iwa-chan. They’re just not _you people.”_

“You have _followers_ ,” Iwaizumi corrected. “Not friends.”

It was ruthless, but he was sick of this act Oikawa was pulling. Iwaizumi knew what he was like –what he was _really_ like- and this wasn’t it. Oikawa had always been insecure and fragile, even as a fourth grader, and it was sad to see the lengths he was going to in order to cover it up.

Oikawa’s expression shifted. For a second, Iwaizumi was brought back to the day Oikawa broke his arm. He looked so scared and helpless.

But it only lasted for a second.

“I don’t need this,” Oikawa decided, throwing his volleyball _hard_ at Iwaizumi’s chest. Iwaizumi just barely caught it.

“Fine. Leave _,_ then. Weasel your way out of this, like you weasel out of everything,” Iwaizumi snipped. Later, he’d regret being so cruel when Oikawa was obviously hurting, but right now he didn’t care. He was too angry.

Oikawa’s face pinched up. He spun on his heel and left the gym. Iwaizumi was going to watch him go, but his frustration got the better of him, and he ended up calling after Oikawa as he walked away.

“Will you remember this tomorrow?” Iwaizumi yelled impulsively. “Or will you _pretend_ to forget?”

The way Oikawa’s shoulders tensed together was worth it, until Iwaizumi realized how quiet the gym was. He turned, only to see the whole team staring at him, balls frozen in their hands. Something sick twisted in Iwaizumi’s stomach. Meanwhile, a huge smile twisted up Hanamaki’s face. “You’ve _always_ liked taking care of him, huh?”

Iwaizumi hid his face in both hands. “Shut _up_.”

* * *

Iwaizumi took a deep breath. Before he could lose his courage, he walked over to the curb where Oikawa was sitting. The other boy looked awful; his shoulders were slumped dejectedly now that no one was paying attention to him. Iwaizumi couldn’t help but feel responsible.

Earlier Morioka had forced everyone out for popsicles again, claiming that the team needed to mesh and be more cohesive. However, it felt like his speech was only directed towards Oikawa and Iwaizumi.

It had been a few days since they had fought in front of the whole team. Fortunately, the only one who was asking questions was Hanamaki. No one was talking about it, but Iwaizumi knew it had been embarrassing for Oikawa. Iwaizumi didn’t feel good about it, either. He was an angry guy, but he didn’t usually let his temper take over. He should have held back.

Iwaizumi stopped in front of Oikawa on the street. He thrust out a kiwi Gari-Gari Kun, forcing it into Oikawa’s line of vision. “Here,” Iwaizumi said. Oikawa looked up from his phone. His gaze flickered between Iwaizumi and the popsicle. “Consider it a peace offering.”

Oikawa looked like he was about to reject it. He had rejected all of Iwaizumi’s other attempts at apologies, but this time was different. He took the ice cream out of Iwaizumi’s hand, their fingers brushing. “Thanks,” Oikawa said. His voice was flat for once, instead of that awful sing-song he normally used when he was talking to Iwaizumi. “Kiwi is my favorite.”

Iwaizumi snorted. “I know.”

Oikawa didn’t go back to his phone right away, and Iwaizumi took it as an invitation to sit with him. The rest of the team was crammed into the convenience store behind them. Anyone could look out at them at any time, but somehow, Iwaizumi felt like they were alone. Oikawa seemed to feel the same way because he started talking. “I didn’t think it would upset you so much, like... me not knowing who you were. I thought you would just give up and that we would, like... both do our own thing,” he said.

Iwaizumi grunted around his own popsicle. “Oikawa... We were _best_ friends. You don’t just let that kind of thing go,” he explained.

Oikawa’s nose twitched. He folded his long arms around his knees and turned his head away from Iwaizumi, physically closing himself off. Apparently, just being alone wasn’t enough to break Oikawa out of his shell.

Iwaizumi sighed and drummed his fingers against his kneecap. “Maybe we can figure all that stuff out later,” he said, extending an olive branch. Oikawa turned back towards him, and Iwaizumi ruffled his hair fondly. If changing the subject helped Oikawa perk up, then Iwaizumi could put the past on hold for a little while longer. “So... Talk to me. Do you really not like outer space anymore?”

Oikawa sighed. “Well, it’s a nerdy thing to like.”

“I’m nerdy,” Iwaizumi said. “Come on, tell me a space fact.” When Oikawa stayed silent, Iwaizumi smacked his leg. “I said _come on._ I really wanna know about the stars and the planets and stuff.”

“ _Okay_ ,” Oikawa replied, giving in. He scratched the back of his neck. A couple cars zoomed by before Oikawa spoke, his cheeks flushed pink as he did so. Iwaizumi couldn’t remember the last time he saw Oikawa blush. “Right, so Saturn has 62 moons, which is super cool. And they’re all pretty awesome, but there’s this one called Tethys, right? And when you look at it through a thermal camera, it looks _just_ like Pac Man! And there’s this other icy moon called Mimas that does the same thing, but it’s like... it’s not as good. Tethys _really_ looks like Pac Man, so it’s my favorite.”

Iwaizumi snorted. “You have a _favorite_ moon of Saturn?”

“Shut up!” Oikawa yelped, shoving Iwaizumi over. Iwaizumi caught himself on his elbow before he fell off the curb, laughing.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry. I’m just teasing,” he promised. Oikawa made an upset noise as he bit into his ice cream. Meanwhile, Iwaizumi sat up straight and brushed dirt off his sleeve. “Listen, it’s _cool_ that you like space. It’s cool that there’s a moon like Pac Man, and it’s cool that you can teach me about it.”

Oikawa scoffed. “You’re probably the only one who thinks so,” he said bitterly. Iwaizumi frowned.

“I’m sure I’m not,” he promised. “People at this school admire you, Oikawa. They’ll think anything you do is awesome.”

Oikawa looked up at Iwaizumi. He seemed tentative, like he wasn’t sure what he should and shouldn’t say yet. If only he knew that Iwaizumi would be happy picking up right where they left off. “One time, I overheard a girl talking about how even the way I blow my _nose_ is pretty,” he said carefully.

Iwaizumi smacked him on the back. “See? You could probably come to school with your underwear on over your pants, and it would start a fashion movement.”

“Of people showing off their _underwear?”_ Oikawa asked, horrified.

“Why not?” Iwaizumi said with a shrug. Oikawa looked disgusted for a moment before he ended up laughing.

“I don’t think I have half as much power as you think I do,” he said eventually. “You have to like... do what the people want to be popular, you know? It’s all about pleasing other people.”

Iwaizumi hummed, trying to hide how excited he was. Oikawa seemed to be opening up a little bit. He had been waiting for this for so long, and now that it was here, he didn’t know what to do. He figured he couldn’t go wrong by trying to be encouraging. “You know, you could stand to be a little more selfish,” he said. “You deserve it.”

“I can always count on you to inflate my ego.”

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes. “Believe me, it doesn’t need any more inflating.”

Oikawa shoved Iwaizumi again, and Iwaizumi laughed as he toppled over. Now _this_ was the Oikawa he knew and loved. He was a little older and a little sadder, but he was still Oikawa, and Iwaizumi was _delighted_ to see him again.

* * *

“Tooru! Tooru, up here!”

Iwaizumi glared up at the balcony. There were six or so girls gathered next to the railing. They were all leaning over the banister, waving to Oikawa. He waved back with a smile so big, his eyes had to close up to make room.

Iwaizumi growled. It wasn’t fair. Why were they allowed to call Oikawa “Tooru” and hang all over him, when Iwaizumi was hardly ever allowed to _talk_ to him?

“Oi, if you squeeze that thing any tighter, it’s going to pop,” Matsukawa warned, gesturing to the volleyball in Iwaizumi’s grip. Iwaizumi’s glare shifted to his friend. He threw the volleyball straight at Matsukawa’s head, and the other boy barely managed to block it. “Hey! What’s wrong with you?”

“Don’t mind him, Matt-chi. He’s always like this when we have an _audience_ ,” Hanamaki said, sending a glare of his own to the girls up above. However, Iwaizumi knew that Hanamaki was annoyed because they were a distraction, not because he was jealous. Iwaizumi wasn’t jealous either, of course, but he was still having a hard time keeping himself from grabbing Oikawa and dragging them both somewhere out of sight.

If one good conversation with Oikawa had Iwaizumi feeling _this_ possessive, he didn’t want to know what the future had in store.

“Whatever. I don’t even want to be here,” Matsukawa complained. He sprawled out on the ground and shut his eyes. Hanamaki kicked him, but Matsukawa only pillowed his head on his arm to get more comfortable.

“I don’t want to be here either,” Iwaizumi admitted, throwing himself down on top of Matsukawa. His legs layered over the other boy’s shoulders. “I sort of get why girls would come to afternoon practice; we do scrimmages and stuff, which is cool. But we don’t _do_ anything in the morning. We just have conditioning crap.”

“I dunno, I kind of get it,” Hanamaki replied.

“You do?”

“Yeah, I mean... If I was into guys, I think watching a bunch of dudes do push-ups and sit ups would be _great_ ,” Hanamaki explained. There was an awkward pause. Hanamaki was quick to end it, though. He kicked Matsukawa again, this time harder. “ _You_ should do some sit-ups, Matt-chi. It would be good for you.”

“Quit calling me Matt-chi.”

“Fine. Matt- _tan._ ”

“Why are you the worst?”

“ _Both_ of you are the worst,” Iwaizumi complained, picking himself up off the ground. He was growing to love Matsukawa and Hanamaki, but Iwaizumi was easily annoyed, and their bickering was irritating enough when he was in a _good_ mood.

Instead of sticking around with his friends, he walked over to hang out with Oikawa before practice. The gym was still empty of third and second years. Yes, there were girls on the balcony with their eyes glued on Oikawa, but hopefully this was private enough for Oikawa to feel like he could talk to him.

Iwaizumi had realized that Oikawa had trouble talking to him when other people were around. He didn’t know why, but he was trying to respect it. However, it was driving him _crazy_ that all of these girls got to talk to Oikawa, while they stomped around and screamed at him from the catwalk. Iwaizumi wanted to talk to Oikawa, and —fuck it— he was going to.

“Hey,” he said, knocking his knuckles against Oikawa’s.

Oikawa stopped smiling up at the girls and flinched away, seemingly surprised by Iwaizumi’s presence. His face quickly relaxed when he recognized him, however. “Oh, hey.”

Iwaizumi smirked. “Hey.”

Oikawa laughed at him. “You said that already,” he giggled, and Iwaizumi was torn between feeling humiliated and thrilled. Oikawa was _laughing_. And really cutely at that. Iwaizumi was happy to hear him sounding so carefree and even happier to be the cause of it.

But he also felt like an idiot for repeating himself.

Instead of feeling embarrassed or excited, he settled on feeling angry. “You don’t know what I said,” he snapped, punching Oikawa in the arm. For some reason, that earned a bunch of squeals from the girls up above them. Iwaizumi looked up, and he was pretty sure he recognized some of them as the group that sat behind him in class.

“No, I do. You said ‘hey.’ _Twice_.” Oikawa pointed out, ignoring the girls. Iwaizumi decided to ignore them, too.

“Shut up. I came over to talk to you, not to get yelled at.”

Oikawa’s eyebrows lifted up towards his hairline. Iwaizumi had never seen his eyes so wide. “You came over to _talk_ , huh?” he asked. There was a smile pulling at his lips. Iwaizumi probably would have been annoyed by it, if he weren’t so ecstatic about having another good conversation with his childhood friend.

“Well, I dunno. Not _talk_ like our usual shit attempts at talking, but like... Practice doesn’t start for ten minutes, and you were hanging out by yourself, so... We should talk to each other, you know? You should tell me about your day or whatever,” he explained awkwardly. He didn’t want to sound too invested, but he also didn’t want Oikawa to stop talking to him.

“Iwa-chan, it’s not even seven in the morning, and you want me to tell you about my day?” Oikawa asked.

Iwaizumi flushed. “Um... yes.”

Oikawa smirked. “All right,” he agreed, much to Iwaizumi’s surprise. Oikawa put a hand on his chin, looking up in thought. “Well, I had a hard time waking up this morning. My alarm clock went off, like... six times. And then I ate some onigiri for breakfast as I ran to my train, and because I was running late, I didn’t bring any fresh clothes, so now I have to go through practice in an already sweaty t-shirt.”

Iwaizumi crinkled his nose. “Well... well, that’s not _so_ bad. You just sweat through any shirt you put on, anyway.”

Oikawa waggled his finger in Iwaizumi’s face. “Nah-ah-ah. I have all these ladies to impress, and here I am in a wrinkled, ugly t-shirt. That’s no good.”

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes and smacked Oikawa’s hand out of his face. “You shouldn’t worry about impressing _anyone_ ,” he said. “Besides, these girls aren’t coming to see your _clothes_ , they’re coming to see _you_ for some ungodly reason.”

Oikawa pouted. “Iwa-chan, don’t you like all my fans?” he asked.

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes again. He really _was_ happy to be talking to Oikawa (they were almost talking like they were friends), but it was exhausting. Oikawa was dramatic, and his emotions fell up and down without warning. Iwaizumi couldn’t help but be a little exasperated. “No. You don’t need a bunch of girls to cheer you on during morning practice, stupid. The team is supposed to do that. _We’re_ supposed to be your biggest fans.”

Oikawa’s expression changed yet again. He looked at Iwaizumi appraisingly. “Does that mean _you’re_ one of my biggest fans?”

Iwaizumi punched his arm. “Well, of course, but you already knew that. You’re such an idiot,” he snapped. He knew it was stupid, but it was easier to act grumpy and beat up Oikawa than seriously admit how much he looked up to him. After all, Oikawa was one of the top setters in their age group, and Iwaizumi had grown up with him. Of course he was rooting for him, especially considering that they were on the same team.

Oikawa opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, Morioka burst into the gym and started giving instructions for morning warm ups. The rest of the team had wormed their way into the gym during their conversation, and it was time for practice to get underway.

Their warm up stretches went normally, but conditioning was different this morning. As they did their first circuit of push ups, burpees, squats, and lunges, Iwaizumi’s eyes lingered on Oikawa’s arms and legs.

“See, I told you. It’s better to watch dudes working out than just playing volleyball,” Hanamaki said knowingly, when no one else was within earshot. Iwaizumi smacked his arm, but his eyes flickered back to Oikawa a second later. Hanamaki was right; there was just no way he would ever admit it.

* * *

Iwaizumi was hardly paying attention to what everyone else was talking about. He was too busy kicking ass. Call of Duty: Black Ops III was Iwaizumi’s _calling_ in life. Volleyball would only last as long as Iwaizumi’s health. Call of Duty was _forever._

“Fuck, Iwaizumi, that’s like the third time you’ve killed me,” Heisuke complained into his headset. The killfeed changed to show that Iwaizumi shot Heisuke with his M4A1.

“Can’t help that I’m better than you,” Iwaizumi deadpanned. He was focused on the game, but he could still pick out Hanamaki, Matsukawa, and Momotu all laughing into their microphones. The noise distracted him just long enough for Kaneo to sneak up behind him.

“You might be better than Heisuke, but _I’m_ the best,” Kaneo said as Iwaizumi’s avatar died. His voice was too cute to be saying something so evil.

“Shut up, I was distracted.”

“We know,” Matsukawa piped up. “You’ve _been_ distracted. You’ve hardly said a word this whole game.”

“I bet I can guess why. You were thinking about Oikawa, weren’t you?” Hanamaki practically purred. Iwaizumi frowned. This was the problem with playing games online. If they were sitting on the couch side by side, then Iwaizumi could just lean over and punch him. But as it stood, Hanamaki was safe in his bedroom on the other side of town. Iwaizumi would have to wait to punch him at morning practice.

“No,” Iwaizumi replied.

“ _Yes.”_

“Hanamaki,” Iwaizumi said. “Why are you so interested in me and Oikawa anyway?”

Motomu piped up. Normally, he was so quiet and resigned, Iwaizumi didn’t have to worry about him asking questions or pressing for answers, but apparently, today wasn’t Iwaizumi’s day. “Actually, to be fair, I think we’re _all_ interested in you and Oikawa, not just Hanamaki.”

“True!” Kaneo chirped. “I heard you guys had, you know... _sex.”_ The last word was almost too quiet for Kaneo’s microphone to pick up, but Iwaizumi could still make it out through his headphones. He almost gagged.

“Kaneo, you don’t know anything about that. Don’t talk about it,” Heisuke demanded.

Iwaizumi smacked his fist down on his desk, glaring even though no one could see it. “ _None_ of you should be talking about it because it _didn’t happen_. I can’t give you details, they’re not mine to share, but I _can_ tell you that _nothing is going on between me and Oikawa._ ”

Everyone was blissfully silent for a moment.

But then Matsukawa spoke up: “But, like, you _did_ lock yourselves up in a bathroom stall: did you or didn’t you?”

“That’s it. I’m muting all of you.”

“Same,” Heisuke agreed.

Matsukawa immediately started backpedalling. “Wait, wait, wait, I’m sorry, I’ll stop giving you crap, I will, honest. C’mon, we’re all supposed to be playing a nice, friendly, murderous, first-person shooter game. This is _bonding_ time. We’re supposed to be _bonding_ ,” he said just as Iwaizumi was hovering above the mute button. He sighed.

“It’s not you I’m worried about,” Iwaizumi admitted. “It’s Hanamaki that won’t stop bringing it up every five seconds.”

Hanamaki made a noncommittal noise over his headset. “Yeah, well... Can you blame me? I’m like... Ugh, bro, don’t make me say it.”

“Say what?” Kaneo asked curiously.

Hanamaki snorted. “No.”

“Come on, say _what?!”_ Kaneo yelped.

“Ugh, fine, okay. Iwaizumi, I’m _worried_ about you, man. You’re always looking all forlorn, and you’re always worrying about Oikawa, but he doesn’t even treat you well. Like, I know how much the rumors bother you, and he hasn’t done _anything_ to stop them. Plus, he yelled at you in the gym the other day, and like... multiple times before that, but you still put in all this effort for him, and like... I dunno, bro, I dunno, it _stresses_ me.”

“Fuck,” Heisuke swore. He sounded exhausted.

“Makki, you’re so sentimental,” Matsukawa said. He was obviously trying to tease, but Iwaizumi was pretty sure he could hear tears in his friend’s voice. He sighed deeply. He felt just as done with this shit as Heisuke clearly was, even if he was flattered that Hanamaki cared that much about him.

“Listen,” he started. “You guys all know by now that me and Oikawa have a history... But I can’t share any of it with you without his permission. So until he trusts you enough to let you know what’s going on, I have to keep my mouth shut.”

“All these secrets!” Kaneo exclaimed, although it sounded more like a cheer than a complaint. Iwaizumi had no idea how someone so excitable and friendly ended up on a team full of assholes. He was like a kid brother; meanwhile, all of their friends were absolute trash.

“But they’re not _my_ secrets,” Iwaizumi clarified.

This time, it was Hanamaki’s turn to huff out a sigh over the phone. “Okay, so I guess we need to keep trying to make friends with Oikawa, then, huh?” he asked.

A small smile appeared on Iwaizumi’s face. It was taking him ages to get anywhere with Oikawa, but the idea of other people trying to be his friend had him grinning. “Yeah, that would be a start.”

“So then why don’t we invite him to come on that zoo trip we were planning,” Matsukawa suggested. “Maybe we could all get closer that way, you know? We could talk about something other than volleyball for awhile?” No one said anything for a moment, and once again, Matsukawa had to start explaining himself. “I’m not saying we should invite him to pry answers out of him or anything. I don’t really care about what’s up with Oikawa, but I think Iwaizumi’s right when he says all that stuff about Oikawa needing better friends and stuff.”

Heisuke laughed. “No, man. The reason we’re all hesitant to invite Oikawa is because he’s a _dick_ ,” he explained.

“Even you, Motomu-kun?” Iwaizumi asked.

“Guilty as charged.”

“Motomu, you are letting me _down_ today,” Iwaizumi said, his shoulders slumping in defeat. He couldn’t make anyone hang out with Oikawa, but he had been excited about the idea of spending a day at the zoo with him.

“We can bring him, I just can’t promise I’ll like it,” Motomu said.

Kaneo made an excited gasping noise over the line. “Oh, I know! Let’s vote for it! Who thinks we should invite Oikawa to the zoo?” he asked.

“Me.”

“Me!”

“Me, too.”

“...Me.”

There was an awkward silence.

“Heisuke,” Kaneo whined, and Heisuke sighed dramatically.

“Ugh. _fine_. But when he wants to go hang out with his ‘kind’ —you know, all the _other_ snakes— I’m not waiting in the reptile house for him. He’s as good as dead to me the second he stops to look at something when I’m trying to get somewhere.”

“Yay!” Kaneo cheered. Iwaizumi could hear him clapping through his headset. “A trip to the zoo with Oikawa it is!”

Cursing filled the air after Kaneo stopped clapping, and the killfeed changed to show that Hanamaki had just died in a grenade explosion. “Kaneo, you little piece of shit!” Hanamaki swore. “I almost had it this time!”

* * *

Iwaizumi doesn’t get the chance to talk to Oikawa about the zoo until after a particularly brutal practice. Their coach had been berating them all a little more than usual. Today, he had targeted Oikawa especially, telling him that he had to practice more effectively if he wanted to make up for his missing natural talent.

It was a load of bullshit. Oikawa had _plenty_ of natural talent; Iwaizumi could feel it every time one of Oikawa’s tosses practically suction-cupped itself to his hand. Spiking was effortless with Oikawa involved.

There was no reason for their coach to have been so harsh, but Oikawa still hung back after practice to work on his tosses. Iwaizumi loitered while Oikawa set up some water bottles next to the net. “Want some help?” he offered, putting down his own water bottle on the ground before Oikawa could place his last one.

Oikawa stared at him hard, almost as if judging his intentions. “... Sure,” he eventually agreed. “Maybe you could just throw to me?”

“Sounds good,” Iwaizumi said. He went over to pull out the ball cart the second years had put away earlier. When he came out of the equipment closet, Oikawa was retying his shoes. Iwaizumi was on the opposite side of the court, but he could still make out Oikawa’s fingers quaking around his laces.

Iwaizumi was alarmed to see Oikawa’s hands shaking so badly. He took note of the way Oikawa chewed on his bottom lip. An image of Oikawa crying in the bathroom stood out in his mind.

Suddenly, Iwaizumi felt crestfallen. He wondered how often Oikawa felt anxious and didn’t tell anyone. He wondered how often Oikawa felt hurt or scared and didn’t speak up. He wondered just how often Oikawa cried alone in bathroom stalls without someone to hold him until he pulled himself together.

“Hey, you know-” Iwaizumi cut himself off. He probably shouldn’t say anything about Oikawa’s obvious distress. He was still so guarded, and Iwaizumi didn’t want to push him. Not anymore. He frantically came up with another topic. “-the other first years and I are going to the zoo this weekend. You should come.”

Oikawa turned his attention away from his shoelaces and onto Iwaizumi. Iwaizumi watched his typical cool expression slip back over his features. It wasn’t quite so cold now that Iwaizumi knew it was a mask. “Do _you_ want me to come? Or does, like, _everyone_ want me to come?”

“Everyone,” Iwaizumi replied a little too quickly. Oikawa looked at him skeptically, and Iwaizumi frantically searched for words. “No, I really do mean everyone, honest. We had a vote.”

“A vote.”

“Yeah. Even Heisuke wants you to come.”

Oikawa snorted and started untying the loose knot on his other shoe. “See, now I _know_ you’re lying,” he said dismissively.

Iwaizumi waved his hands in the air. “No, no, really. I mean... he wasn’t _happy_ about the idea really, but he’s not happy about anything, and he didn’t say _no_ , so it was unanimous. Everyone thinks you should do more stuff with us,” he said honestly. Sure, maybe Iwaizumi was the one to convince them all to start thinking that way, but Oikawa didn’t need to know that. What Oikawa needed was more friends, and Iwaizumi wanted to provide that for him.

Plus, Oikawa clearly had a hard day. Maybe an invitation to go to the zoo with his teammates would help him feel better. Iwaizumi was glad that a little convincing on his part could do the dual purpose of getting Oikawa a group of valuable friends _and_ cheering him up after a bad afternoon.

Oikawa still looked uncertain, though.

“Are you sure?” he asked. Iwaizumi could see his hands shaking again. It was feint and hard to pick out, but Iwaizumi knew to look for it now. Oikawa scrunched his nose. “I don’t want to intrude.”

Iwaizumi threw a volleyball at Oikawa, and it hit him square on the forehead. Unlike Hanamaki and Matsukawa, Oikawa hadn’t learned how to dodge. Clearly, they would have to spend more time together for Oikawa to get used to Iwaizumi throwing stuff at him. “Of course you wouldn’t be intruding,” Iwaizumi snapped. “Just _come_.”

Oikawa stood up, shifting his weight from foot to foot. “Well... Okay. But you’ll be there, right? I’m only going if you promise to be there.”

Iwaizumi gave Oikawa a thumbs up. “Wouldn’t miss it,” he promised. “Now are we doing this tossing thing or what?” he asked.

Oikawa stood up and took his position frantically. “We’re doing it, we’re doing it,” he promised. “Just throw whenever you’re ready.”

Iwaizumi tossed the first ball. Oikawa didn’t manage to hit any of the water bottles in the first thirty tosses he tried, but Iwaizumi stuck with him. By the time Iwaizumi had missed three of his trains, Oikawa had only managed to knock over eight water bottles.

“I think we should probably head home,” Iwaizumi said as they collected all of the balls for what felt like the hundredth time. Oikawa pulled a face, but Iwaizumi spoke up again before he could argue. “We can practice again tomorrow, but you need rest.”

“I don’t need a break.”

“No,” Iwaizumi said firmly. “Not a break, a _rest_. Your muscles have eaten away at themselves all afternoon. You need some time to relax so that they can build back up and you can do better tomorrow.”

Oikawa huffed in frustration, and Iwaizumi ruffled his hair. He laughed as Oikawa wailed about his perfect bangs.

“C’mon, man, you can fix it when we get out of this stupid gym,” Iwaizumi goaded, poking Oikawa in the side.

“ _Fine_ ,” he agreed. He started untying the net from its stand while Iwaizumi pushed the ball cart back to the equipment closet. Oikawa called out to him as he walked. “But, oh, Iwaizumi? About the zoo... I think... I think I will come.”

“You will?” Iwaizumi asked, poking his head out of the closet to look at Oikawa. The other boy nodded hesitantly.

If Iwaizumi smiled the whole way home about one stupid little nod, then no one else needed to know.

* * *

Heisuke smacked the back of Hanamaki’s head as the group stopped to look at some tigers. “Makki, get your hands out of your pants, you absolute freak.”

“Listen, I don’t have pockets,” he replied. He was near elbow-deep in his own shorts. It hadn’t taken long for Iwaizumi to notice that Hanamaki liked having his hands stuffed into his trackies. At first, he had thought that Hanamaki was constantly adjusting himself, but now he realized there was something else to it.

“That doesn’t mean you should stick your hands under your waistband instead. It means you shouldn’t put your hands in your pants at _all,_ ” Heisuke said.

“And in _public_ , no less,” Motomu tacked on, speaking up for the first time that day.

Hanamaki blinked. “You know, Motomu, I’m starting to think you can’t be trusted,” he complained. Iwaizumi thought he might have heard him mutter something along the lines of “It’s always the quiet ones,” but his attention was more focused on Oikawa.

He winced up at him sheepishly. “I bet you didn’t expect all of this nonsense when you agreed to come,” Iwaizumi said, looking more at the tigers than he did at Oikawa. For some reason, eye contact felt hard today. Iwaizumi had gone to a lot of trouble picking out clothes and getting ready for this zoo trip, but now that he was here, he was too embarrassed and awkward to talk to anyone. It was making him grumpy.

Fortunately, grumpy was an emotion Iwaizumi was used to. He was good at being cranky. He was more comfortable being angry than just about anything else, and it was good to be with Oikawa even if he wasn’t in a great mood.

Oikawa turned away from the tigers and frowned. “Oh, um... Actually, I didn’t really have any expectations.”

“Is that an insult?” Heisuke asked, whipping around on Oikawa. Iwaizumi huffed out a sigh. He had no idea what had crawled up Heisuke’s ass and died today, but he was just about done with his bad attitude.

Oikawa’s frown deepened. “Um, no, I just... I dunno.”

“Oikawa-san just doesn’t know us very well yet, is all. Right?” Kaneo asked, smiling up at Oikawa in his obnoxiously adorable way. He was like a cute little kid trapped in a high school student’s body.

Oikawa cleared his throat. “Right,” he agreed weakly. Iwaizumi narrowed his eyes at Oikawa. For once, he didn’t seem totally arrogant and standoffish. It was like he was _actually_ trying to make friends instead of just expecting his teammates to worship him like everyone else.

“See, Heisuke? He’s not being a jerk, so stop stomping around and being so grumpy,” Kaneo demanded. Heisuke huffed out a sigh, resigned. Meanwhile, Oikawa looked relieved.

“You know, Kaneo has a point,” Hanamaki piped up. “Oikawa, we don’t know you very well either, you should tell us about yourself- _Mattsukawa, get down from there, you’re going to kill yourself!”_

Mattsukawa looked over from where he was leaning over the ledge of the tiger enclosure. There were two fences separating him from the big cats, but he was leaning over _awfully_ far. He hopped down at Hanamaki’s insistence though, and came back over to join the rest of the group. “What are we talking about?” he asked.

“We’re talking about Oikawa,” Hanamaki replied.

Matsukawa looked confused. “Um...”

“We need to learn more about him, ask him about his life,” Hanamaki filled in. He turned to face Oikawa. “So, tell us things! What’s your favorite animal? Why did you pick Seijoh? How do you know Iwaizumi? What’s your favorite color?”

Oikawa looked overwhelmed for a second before his usual calm demeanor slipped back into place. However, Iwaizumi couldn’t help but notice how tense his shoulders were. Oikawa was a good actor, but if you looked close enough, you could tell how he was truly feeling. “Um... Maybe polar bears? And I liked the team and the team colors; aqua blue is my favorite.”

“Hm, I think the polar bears are up next, we should head over,” Motomu said quietly, his eyes glued to a zoo map.

Hanamaki frowned. “I think you missed one of my questions,” he pointed out.

“I don’t think so,” Oikawa replied airily, a hand cocked on his hip. Hanamaki’s eyes flitted between Iwaizumi and Oikawa for a moment before he started laughing.

“You know, you guys are kind of perfect for each other. You’re both so _sneaky_ ,” he said, a shit-eating grin taking up his entire face. Iwaizumi smacked him on the back of the head.

“You’re such a dick,” he complained.

“Yep, polar bears are up next. They’re that way,” Motomu interrupted, pointing. He hadn’t been paying attention to the conversation at all. Instead, his head had been bent over the map with Heisuke and Kaneo, looking at all the animals that were coming up next.

“We should head over,” Matsukawa said, smoothly helping Iwaizumi get Hanamaki from interrogating Oikawa any further.

In the end, they started walking towards the polar bear exhibit. Iwaizumi tried to keep the grumpy feeling going, but really he just felt guilty. He had offered to take Oikawa to this stupid zoo, hoping to help him feel better and bond with the rest of the team. However, all of his friends were too busy being dumb and obnoxious to actually reach out to Oikawa, even though that was why they had gone on this stupid trip in the first place.

“Fuck me up. _Penguins_ ,” Matsukawa ran ahead to the arctic exhibit, and Hanamaki raced after him to keep him out of danger.

“Oh, I _love_ penguins!” Kaneo said, clasping his hands together.

“You love _everything,”_ Heisuke pointed out, but for once, he didn’t sound totally furious. If anything, he sounded endeared. Sometimes, it seemed like the only thing that could keep Heisuke from killing off everyone and everything was a smile from Kaneo. It always managed to calm him right down, even mid-rant. It never ceased to surprise Iwaizumi how one person could mean so much to someone else.

“So...” Oikawa said while everyone else rushed to see the penguins. “I know that penguins might be cuter, but I was _really_ hoping to look at polar bears.”

“We can go look at them first, if you want,” Iwaizumi offered. He didn’t really care about which animals he did and didn’t see. In general, Iwaizumi didn’t care about much. He was about as laid back as they came.

“Really?”

“Yeah, sure, no problem.”

They walked over to the polar bears’ tank. It was the kind where it was built on a slope, so you could stand uphill and look at the “ice burg” they walked around on, or you could stand downhill and watch them swim in their giant, glass aquarium. Oikawa and Iwaizumi stood on the lower side, watching the polar bears swim around and catch the dead fish their zookeepers were throwing into the water.

“This is really cool,” Iwaizumi said at the same time Oikawa spoke up.

“I have a confession to make.”

Iwaizumi blanched. “Oh, um... Okay. Go ahead,” he said. Oikawa wasn’t looking at him. Instead he was looking at the polar bears, the blue light from their tank illuminating his face and streaking across his cheeks.

“Polar bears are only my favorite animal if you don’t count bugs,” he said. “If you count bugs, my favorite animal is a stag beetle.”

Iwaizumi crinkled his nose. “You always hated stag beetles,” he said, remembering all of the times he had to convince Oikawa to go bug catching with him.

Oikawa just shrugged. “Sometimes things change.”

“Iwaizumi! Oikawa-san! You’ll never believe what the penguins are doing!” Kaneo shouted, practically appearing out of thin air. “There was a big fat one who just did a flip into the water, and- _Oh_ , these polar bears are cool, too!” he said, cutting himself off. He stood with his hands and face pressed against the glass. Iwaizumi snorted.

“Did you want us to see the penguins, or...” he trailed off, and Kaneo cocked his head to the side.

“What? Oh, um... No, this is good,” he said, never once taking his eyes off the bears. He cheered gleefully when one tore up a fish right in front of him. Iwaizumi couldn’t help but clap in awe like everyone else crowded around the tank.

Oikawa laughed at him. “Your such a dork,” he said, reaching out to tap Iwaizumi’s chin. “Your jaw is hanging open.”

Iwaizumi snapped his mouth shut and blushed. “Well, I don’t know... It was cool,” he muttered towards the ground.

Oikawa smirked. “You still don’t know the difference between what’s cool and what isn’t.”

“Sure I do.”

“No, you don’t, Iwaizumi,” Kaneo piped up. He was still distracted by the polar bears, but apparently it wasn’t enough to keep him from calling Iwaizumi out on his shit. “You’re wearing a backwards snapback and a tank top to the zoo when it’s barely seventy degrees outside. Only assholes do that,” he said, like it was a matter of fact. Iwaizumi frowned while Oikawa burst out laughing.

“Ah! I like your friends, Iwa-chan. They’re amazing!”

“Amazingly stupid,” Iwaizumi corrected. He was annoyed that everyone was ganging up on him, but he still had to fight to hold back a smile. He was happy that Oikawa was getting along with Kaneo, even if it was at his expense.

Soon, the rest of the guys showed up and forced them all into an outdoor theater to watch a bird show. Iwaizumi was listening to the falconers talk about hawks and owls when Hanamaki nudged his side.

“Hey, are things with Oikawa, okay? When you guys split off, Mattsun thought it might be because I annoyed him with all my questions,” he whispered. Iwaizumi looked over to Oikawa to see if he had heard, but he seemed preoccupied with Kaneo sitting by his side and barraging him with questions about the show: _Isn’t that cool? Do you like that bird? Do you like that one? What about owls, don’t you like owls? Aren’t they cool?_

Iwaizumi scratched the back of his neck. “Nah, he’s chill. He just wanted to look at polar bears.”

“Cool,” Hanamaki said, nodding. “Don’t think I’ve given up on making friends with him, it’s going to happen.”

Iwaizumi snorted. “I’m sure it will,” he promised. Hanamaki could hear the sarcasm in his voice, though, and he seemed to take it as a challenge. He immediately got up and threw himself over Oikawa, holding Kaneo back with one hand while he tried to take up all of Oikawa’s attention.

Iwaizumi huffed out a sigh. His friends were idiots: one step above plant life. But he had grown to love them, and hopefully Oikawa would, too.

* * *

“Thanks!” Oikawa yelped, stealing Iwaizumi’s deodorant out from right under his nose. Iwaizumi had _just_ been reaching for it. Practice had been long and sweaty, and he smelled _terrible_. He needed something to help.

“Gross,” Iwaizumi said. He snatched it back the second Oikawa was done. “You’re going to give me a fungus,” he complained as he rolled the stick onto his armpits.

Oikawa’s whole face crumpled up in disgust. Iwaizumi tried not to use the word ‘cute,’ especially when it came to Oikawa, but he had to admit that it was kind of... _adorable._

“A _fungus?_ ” Oikawa asked.

“A deodorant fungus.”

Oikawa stuck his tongue out. “Well, I can’t find mine, so get ready for some mushroom-y armpits, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa said, and Iwaizumi flushed. He knew _exactly_ where Oikawa’s deodorant was. He had taken it home after their ‘talk’ in the clubroom, and it was currently hidden between his mattress and his bedframe.

Why did Iwaizumi have to be such a freak?

“Okay,” Oikawa said as he threw on a fresh shirt. “I’m off. See you around, Iwa-chan!” Oikawa exclaimed as he left the clubroom. He blew kisses in Iwaizumi’s direction.

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes so hard it hurt.

“I’m leaving, too. See you later, _Iwa-chan_ ,” Hanamaki teased. Before Iwaizumi could flinch away, Hanamaki grabbed his face wtih two hands and pressed a kiss to his cheek. Iwaizumi made gagging noises.

“Me, too,” Matsukawa said, reaching for Iwaizumi’s face. Iwaizumi smacked his hands away before he got the chance to touch him.

“You guys are so weird,” Iwaizumi said. He turned away as Hanamaki and Matsukawa swooned and sighed over him while they left. He needed to find new friends at this school. He was tired of being surrounded by idiots.

There was a frown on Iwaizumi’s face as he packed up his things, but honestly, he was in a pretty good mood. He had gotten to the point with Hanamaki and Matsukawa where they could make fun of each other and beat each other up.

...It sounded a lot nicer in his head.

But at the beginning of the year, he thought that Hanamaki and Matsukawa would always be best friends, and Iwaizumi would just be the awkward third. However, he had really been absorbed into their group. They felt more like a trio than a pair and an extra. It was relieving. Begrudgingly, Iwaizumi had to admit that his mom was right; he had made friends, it had just taken time.

Also, Oikawa seemed to be in a good mood. They were at least talking, even if it wasn’t about anything important. He’d been goofy today in the clubroom, which was encouraging. Iwaizumi could get used to sharing deodorant and blowing kisses, and he could always stand to see more of Oikawa’s smiles.

Iwaizumi finished pulling on clean clothes. He had to smell good enough to sit next to just in case the train was crowded. As he left the clubroom, he waved (normally) to the rest of the team, a smile high on his face.

He was still smiling when he spotted a familiar mop of brown hair.

“Oikawa?” Iwaizumi called, confused. The setter was sitting behind the gym with his knees pulled to his chest. Iwaizumi usually took a shortcut around the gym to get to the train station, but it wasn’t an otherwise commonly used pathway.

Oikawa looked up at the sound of his name. Iwaizumi noticed the tears on his cheeks right away. Oikawa looked _terrified_ , and he flinched, burying his face into his knees.

Iwaizumi felt his stomach drop. “Tooru,” he whispered. He stood frozen for a second before running over and grabbing onto Oikawa’s shoulders. “Tooru... Tooru, what happened? What _happened_?” he asked, forcing Oikawa to straighten out. He finger-combed the other boy’s hair off of his forehead. “You were doing just fine _seconds_ ago; you were _smiling_. What happened? Why are you crying?”

Oikawa took a shuddering breath. “D-don’t call me T-To-To-“

“What the hell? Now is _so not the time_ : you’re _crying_. What’s going on?”

Oikawa just shook his head and reached out to latch onto Iwaizumi. His hands grabbed him much too harshly. Nails dug into Iwaizumi’s skin, and teeth dug into his shoulder. Oikawa was _biting_ him.

“What are you, a vampire?” Iwaizumi asked, rubbing Oikawa’s back.

Oikawa let go, but the second he did, a huge sob erupted from the back of his chest. Iwaizumi could feel it reverberate through him; they were sitting so close. Now he knew why Oikawa had been biting him: to hold back the noise. He watched as Oikawa’s teeth pierced into his bottom lip instead of his shoulder.

“Okay... Okay, don’t worry about it, just come here,” Iwaizumi said, feeling guilty for complaining. He picked Oikawa up and pulled him into his lap. He held him close. It dawned on Iwaizumi that Oikawa wasn’t talking. He was tense in Iwaizumi’s arms, like he was fighting the urge to melt into him, and Iwaizumi realized he had to do something to help Oikawa relax, something more than just berate him with questions. “It’s okay... You’re okay. Don’t worry; I’m here. I’m here,” he said quietly. “I’ve got you. You’re okay. I’m looking after you.”

“Ha-Hajime.”

“So _there’s_ Tooru,” Iwaizumi said, rolling his eyes. He let his fingers trail up and down Oikawa’s spine. “Stop crying, stupid, I told you: you’re okay.”

Oikawa let out another sob, and Iwaizumi frowned.

“I’ve got you,” he repeated. “You’re okay. You don’t have to be sad when I’ve got you.”

Oikawa slowly started to calm down. His breathing was shaky, but at least he wasn’t panting into Iwaizumi’s neck anymore. Iwaizumi kept repeating the same couple phrases into Oikawa’s ear when he realized it was helping him relax. Eventually Oikawa’s tears had all but stopped, and he was still in Iwaizumi’s lap.

“Are you feeling better?” Iwaizumi asked.

Oikawa grunted. He wiped his eyes and stood up. There was dust on his pants and his hair was messy, but Oikawa quickly brushed himself off and ran a hand through his fringe. Iwaizumi watched on anxiously. “Okay,” Oikawa said, fixing his bangs to lie nicely against his forehead. Once again, he had managed to pull himself together in only a couple seconds. He looked down at his toes. “See you around,” he mumbled.

Oikawa turned on his heel and walked away. Once again, Iwaizumi was so startled that it took him a minute to follow after him. “Wait... _what?_ Oikawa!” he yelped, running to catch up with him.

“Nope, nope, nope, bye,” Oikawa said, speeding away.

“No, _wait_ ,” Iwaizumi demanded, trying to grab Oikawa’s wrist. Oikawa pulled his hand away immediately, throwing a glare at Iwaizumi over his shoulder.

“I said _no,_ ” he said before taking off in a jog. This time, Iwaizumi just watched him go. He was getting places with Oikawa, he knew that much. But apparently, it would take a lot more time to earn Oikawa’s trust. One of these days Oikawa would tell him why he was crying; he was sure of it.

But that didn’t mean watching Oikawa run away wasn’t discouraging.

* * *

“Hey, Oikawa, let me walk you home,” Iwaizumi said after practice the next day. He had stayed late with Oikawa again. This time, Oikawa had been working on his serves while Iwaizumi tried to practice receiving by returning all of the balls that made it over the net.

Oikawa looked at him. He seemed partially incredulous and partially horrified as he tried to catch his breath. He was still panting –winded from the extra practice- when he replied. “What?”

“Let me walk you home,” Iwaizumi repeated. “You’ve said your legs felt like jelly eight times in the past two hours, I’m scared you’re going to collapse before you get to your house.”

Oikawa crinkled his nose. “I mean... I don’t live _that_ far from the train station. I think I can make it.”

“Dude, come on, it would make me feel better.”

“Okay, _fine_ ,” Oikawa agreed, taking a swig from his water bottle. He doubled over and put his hands on his knees. He was still hardly breathing and –frankly- Iwaizumi was having trouble getting air in himself. “But you can’t come in, I didn’t ask if I could have any visitors today.”

“Fine by me,” Iwaizumi agreed, packing up his gym bag. Normally, he changed before going home, but their captain had locked up the clubroom hours ago.

Both of them were too exhausted to talk on the way to the train station. Iwaizumi didn’t mind the silence. His t-shirt was sticking to him, and he could still feel beads of sweat dropping from his hair onto the back of his neck. It was gross. He and Oikawa walked side by side, but they left as much space as they could between their shoulders without falling off the sidewalk. Iwaizumi needed some space to breathe, and he was sure Oikawa felt the same way.

It wasn’t until they boarded Oikawa’s train that the other boy started showing signs of anxiety. He was wringing his hands together and biting his bottom lip. Iwaizumi couldn’t help but wonder why. Did he not want to go home? Did going home scare him? Is that why he was crying after practice the other day? What if Iwaizumi had forced Oikawa from one bad home to another when he told their teacher about the neglect all those years ago? What if he lived in foster care, or worse, an _orphanage_?

“Iwaizumi,” Oikawa said, stopping all of Iwaizumi’s anxious thoughts. “Just so you know, you can’t come to the door or anything because if you do, my grandma is going to want to meet you, and I just... I don’t want that to happen yet.”

“You live with your grandma?” Iwaizumi asked.

Oikawa turned dark pink. “Yeah... But don’t tell anyone. Everyone else thinks I live with my parents.”

Iwaizumi hummed. Oikawa would apparently stop at nothing to hide his past. Iwaizumi could understand not wanting anyone to know about the neglect, but Oikawa was going to some pretty ridiculous extremes to make sure no one found out. Lying, pretending... It seemed exhausting. “Does your grandma treat you well?” he asked, hoping that Oikawa at least had a safe place at home.

“Yeah, of course,” Oikawa said, looking at Iwaizumi like he was crazy. Iwaizumi felt like punching him. Oikawa _knew_ that Iwaizumi couldn’t just _assume_ he had a good home life, but he was still acting like Iwaizumi was stupid for asking. Oikawa seemed to notice how pissed off he was because he continued talking, shrinking into his seat a little. “Listen... Everything at home is fine, you don’t have to worry.”

Iwaizumi only grunted in response.

Oikawa sighed. “Seriously, though,” he continued. “My grandma’s really nice. She probably has snacks waiting out for me on the counter, and like... she let me put up glow-in-the-dark stars in my room, even though it’s a rental house, and I dunno. I love my grandma; she’s nice. She used to bring over curry and do my laundry when I was little.”

Iwaizumi didn’t say anything. Part of him was grateful that Oikawa’s grandma had gone to the effort of feeding him and taking care of him before he was taken from his home. A greater part of him, however, was frustrated that she had never gotten Iwaizumi away from such a bad environment.

However, the train ride to Oikawa’s house was a long one. They passed at least seven stations without getting off. Iwaizumi frowned, realizing just how far away from home he was. They were going in the _opposite_ direction as his neighborhood. It would take him at least an hour to get back to his house.

Maybe that was why Oikawa’s grandma didn’t visit often.

Eventually, Oikawa stood up to get off the train, and Iwaizumi followed his lead. He wasn’t lying when he said his house wasn’t far from the station. It was a cute little red apartment complex –three stories high- right next to a man-made lake with a fountain in the middle.

“There’s turtles in it, you know,” Oikawa said weakly. He sounded scared for some reason. Iwaizumi realized he hadn’t said anything encouraging about Oikawa’s grandma on the train, and he was currently glaring at his apartment building like it personally wronged him.

“Turtles are cool,” Iwaizumi said.

Oikawa perked up, obviously happy to hear something positive. “Yeah! I used to feed them bread crusts with my grandma. She like... cuts them off her toast, and the turtles really like them, I guess. I dunno.”

“That’s really nice that she would do that with you,” Iwaizumi said earnestly. He was happy that Oikawa had some attention from an adult growing up. He was happy he lived in such a nice place. This was a far cry from the house Oikawa used to live in- with a garden full of weeds and peeling paint.

Iwaizumi felt tears prick at his eyes, and he groaned, annoyed with himself for crying. Oikawa looked alarmed. “Are you okay?!”

“Yeah, fuck, this is just... It’s _great_ , Tooru,” he said, gesturing to the apartment complex. For once, Oikawa didn’t yell at him for using his given name.

“You think?”

“Of _course_ ,” Iwaizumi promised. “All these apartments have chimneys and little balconies... This is really _nice_ , I’m so glad that you get to live here.”

Oikawa frowned. “Well, Iwa-chan, it’s not like you don’t have a nice, big house in the middle of a pretty, little gated community,” he said, but Iwaizumi shook his head. It didn’t matter how big his house was compared to Oikawa’s little apartment. It didn’t matter if he had a front yard and a garden, and Oikawa didn’t. All that mattered was that Oikawa had a little fireplace to sit in front of with his grandma, that he had a balcony to sit out on and do his homework. He had a pond with turtles right by his house with a little fountain to listen to as he fell asleep.

It was just what Iwaizumi had been hoping for when he told his teacher about the neglect. This was the home he had always wanted for Oikawa. He was so glad that he ended up somewhere so nice.

“No, you don’t get it,” Iwaizumi said, his voice a little raw. “I’m just really happy that you have such a nice place to come home to every day. I’m so happy that you, like- _fuck_.” Iwaizumi had to stop talking to keep from crying.

All those years of worrying were for nothing, and that felt _so good_. Oikawa had been eating; he had grown up so tall and handsome. He wasn’t sick anymore. Iwaizumi had been on a team with him for over a month now, and he never once missed a day or got a cold. He had a grandma who let him do whatever dorky alien things he wanted and who saved her bread crusts for him to feed turtles. And to top it all off, he had this cute and clean little apartment building.

Iwaizumi was so fucked if he ever was invited into Oikawa’s house or asked to meet his grandma. He’d be such a _mess._

“Iwaizumi, you’ve kind of been freaking me out, lately,” Oikawa said, his face screwed up in a frown. Iwaizumi shook his head.

“No, you’ve been freaking _me_ out lately. I know you won’t talk about it, but I keep finding you crying, and like... _Whatever._  Tooru, I just really like your house. I’m very happy you have it.”

“Okay, Crazy,” Oikawa agreed rolling his eyes, but Iwaizumi could see that his words had struck a cord somewhere within him. He sniffed trying to pull himself together before he shed any tears. “You know, I made it here without my legs giving out on me. You can go home now,” Oikawa said, kicking both legs to prove they were feeling fine. They were a little shaky from overuse, Iwaizumi could tell, but he trusted Oikawa to make it up the stairs to his apartment on his own.

“Okay, okay, just... which one is yours?” he asked, pointing up at the building.

Oikawa sighed, and gestured to a balcony on the second floor with a cute little seashell wind chime and a white porch swing.

“Fuck, it’s so cute.”

“Are you going to cry again?” Oikawa asked anxiously, looking like he would either run away or kill himself if Iwaizumi dared to start getting misty-eyed again.

Iwaizumi shook his head. “No, it’s just...”

“Nice?”

“Right, and I’m so...”

“Happy?”

“Yeah,” Iwaizumi replied, voice dry. Oikawa hummed and kicked at a rock. He smelled terrible. His clothes were wrinkled and sweaty, and his hair was stuck to his forehead in a weird way. Iwaizumi had no idea how he started to care _so much_ about someone so crazy and ridiculous after so many years.

Oikawa clapped him on the back. “Right, well... I’m going to go upstairs. My grandma is probably worried. Have fun catching the train home.”

“Okay,” Iwaizumi agreed. He watched as Oikawa walked to his building’s door and swiped his key card to get in. “Thanks for letting me take you home! I had a good time!” he called out before Oikawa could make it into the building.

Oikawa turned back around. “Thanks for _taking_ me home! I had a weird time!” he yelled back before disappearing inside the door. Iwaizumi took a shaky breath. Oikawa was in good hands.

His heart felt lighter on the train ride home.

* * *

Iwaizumi’s dad shoved a spoon in his face the second he walked into the kitchen. “Welcome home, son. Taste this,” his father demanded.

Iwaizumi nearly gagged, but he was used to his dad suddenly making him try whatever he was cooking. His father was a chef who was in charge of helping a chain of luxury hotels figure out their menus each season. It was a weird job, and it meant that four times a year, Iwaizumi’s house was filled with a ton of strange gourmet food.

“Ah, it’s good,” Iwaizumi said, chewing on a piece of cooked meat. He couldn’t tell what kind it was just by tasting. “What is it?”

“Terriaki quail,” his dad answered. “It’s a little western, and we need more of that kind of thing on the menu.”

“You do?”

His father nodded, getting a clean spoon to taste something else that was simmering on the stove. “Yup,” he said around his mouthful. “Last season, all the white people complained about all of the tofu and hanpen, the bunch of stupid, tasteless, idiotic-“

“Careful!” Iwaizumi’s mom said as she walked into the kitchen. Her head was bent over yet another Sudoku. “No need to insult anyone just because they have different taste than you do, dear.”

“ _Fine_. But I _do_ get to insult quail for having such _stupidly hard_ wings to debone,” his dad said.

“See, now that is fair,” his mother agreed. “Quails definitely should have thought about how hard of a time you would have deboning their wings when they decided on what their bone structure should be. It was thoughtless of them to make it so difficult for you.”

Iwaizumi laughed. He couldn’t remember a conversation between his parents that didn’t involve complaining and sarcasm. They were a strong couple, just a little weird at times. “You guys are bizarre,” Iwaizumi complained, but there wasn’t any heat behind his words. He grabbed a fork and stabbed a couple pieces of finished quail from his dad’s cutting board.

“Hajime, are you just getting home?” his mom asked, suddenly putting her Sudoku down and staring at him over the bridge of her glasses.

Iwaizumi shrugged. “Yeah.”

“And where were you all of this time?”

Iwaizumi sat down at the kitchen table, smiling widely at his mom. “I was at _Oikawa’s_ house.”

His mom made an excited noise and pushed away her puzzle book. She leaned in towards her son, resting her chin on both hands. “Tell me everything.”

“Wait, wait, wait,” Iwaizumi’s dad said, his back turned to his family as he rinsed off radishes. “Oikawa? I thought he moved ages ago.”

Both Iwaizumi and his mother sighed. “Yes, dear, but he’s at Hajime’s school now. Keep up with the times,” his mom said. Iwaizumi’s dad was usually pretty distracted. Iwaizumi had brought up Oikawa to him a couple dozen times now, but he still didn’t remember.

“Oh, right, right, right. Okay. Carry on.”

“Okay, so,” Iwaizumi began, grabbing a pear from the fruit bowl on the table. “He lives like an hour away. Aoba Johsai is in the middle of us, so I guess that’s why I haven’t seen him in so long.”

“I don’t care _where_ it is. What’s it _like?”_ his mom asked.

“It’s great,” Iwaizumi said, taking a big bite from his pear. He thought for a moment as he chewed. “It’s like... an apartment that he lives in with his grandma? But it’s really nice. I didn’t get to go inside, but his grandma has one of those swinging benches on the balcony and a little wind chime made up of shells.”

“Shells?” his dad asked.

“Yeah, like beach shells. And there’s a pond where turtles live outside, and a little fountain. And the way the apartments are built, it’s possible for every flat to have a little fireplace. Like, they’re built on an angle kind of, I dunno.”

“But it’s nice,” his mom clarified.

Iwaizumi nodded, blushing as he remembered how emotional he got looking at it. “Yeah, it’s great, mom. If I grow up and move into a place like that, you’d be really happy for me.”

“That’s great! Everything seems to be turning out, Hajime. You have made some really nice new friends, your old friends are doing well... I’m happy for you,” his mom said.

His dad came over to smack his son on the back. “That’s my boy! He’s got his shit together, I’ll tell you.”

“ _Language_ ,” his mother reprimanded.

Iwaizumi snickered, feeling weirdly happy for once. His mom was right; things were on the up and up.

* * *

“Yo, Oikawa,” Matsukawa said, throwing one of his dirty socks in Oikawa’s direction to get his attention. “Do you game?”

“Game?” Oikawa asked, side stepping away from Matsukawa’s sock with his nose crinkled up in disgust. The first years had been ordered to clean out the clubroom after Morioka slipped on someone’s dirty underwear.

To be fair, the clubroom had turned into a bit of a pigsty since the first years had moved their stuff in, but that didn’t mean Iwaizumi was happy about having to clear off and wipe down all of the shelves. The smell of cleaner was making him lightheaded.

Matsukawa seemed unaffected, though. (Maybe his brain cells had _already_ been killed off by chemicals. That would explain why he always said such stupid things.) “Yeah, like, do you play video games?” he explained.

Oikawa frowned. “Um, not really.”

“Shit,” Matsukawa swore. “That sucks. Me and Iwaizumi are going to Makki’s house after this to play Call of Duty. I was going to invite you to be our fourth.”

“Well, you could still invite him,” Iwaizumi pointed out.

“You _should_ invite him,” Hanamaki tacked on. “The more the merrier at my place.” Hanamaki’s parents usually didn’t come home from work until really late at night. He had confessed to Iwaizumi that he liked having people in his house so it wasn’t so quiet all of the time.

It sounded painfully familiar to Oikawa’s life in elementary school. He hoped that when Hanamaki and Oikawa became closer friends, they could talk to each other about what it was like to have such empty households.

“Or you could invite _me_ ,” Kaneo pouted.

“Kaneo, your mom would _kill_ you,” Heisuke pointed out. Kaneo’s mom was extremely overprotective. He wasn’t allowed to go to friends’ houses when their parents weren’t home. “Anyway, we were going to stop for meat buns on the way home, remember?”

“Ah, actually, we were _all_ going to do that,” Motomu pointed out. “Why do you always forget me?”

Heisuke shrugged unapologetically. “Kaneo is just better than you.”

“Okay, would everyone shut up for two seconds?” Iwaizumi asked, ducking out from between two of the lower shelves to look at Oikawa. “Do you want to come play video games or not?” he asked, his nose twitching.

“Ah... I’ll come,” Oikawa agreed. He looked weirdly shy. Iwaizumi didn’t know how Oikawa could manage to look so aloof when he was walking through the halls at school, and yet be so awkward and nervous around people who were actually trying to be _nice_ to him. These were Oikawa’s _teammates;_ they weren’t trying to talk to him to be popular or make up rumors. Oikawa should feel _comfortable_ , not scared.

“Cool. Maybe we can play Mario Kart, though. I don’t think Oikawa would be into COD,” Iwaizumi said.

Matsukawa wrinkled his nose. He looked disappointed, like the afternoon wasn’t shaping up to be what he wanted it to be. “Why do you say that?” he asked.

Iwaizumi shrugged, getting back down on his hands and knees to finish wiping down the shelf. There was a grimy layer of sweat coating the finished wood. It was disgusting to clean it all up, but it would be grosser to leave it. “I don’t know,” he said. “When Tooru and I were in elementary school together, he hated scary stuff. It gave him nightmares.”

“Ah, so _that’s_ how you two met! You guys were friends in elementary school,” Hanamaki said, snapping his fingers. He seemed proud of himself for figuring it out for a moment, but his face quickly fell. “So what happened to you two? Why were you so weird in the beginning of the year?”

Iwaizumi’s eyes widened. He hadn’t meant to share anything about elementary school with the rest of the team, but now six sets of eyes were on him, including Oikawa’s. Iwaizumi cleared his throat. “Um...”

“Yeah, what _did_ happen to us, Iwaizumi?” Oikawa asked, glaring.

Iwaizumi faltered. “Well, I mean... Do you really want me to tell?” he asked, confused.

Oikawa threw Matsukawa’s dirty sock in Iwaizumi’s direction. His expression had warped into something _furious_ , and Iwaizumi shrunk beneath his stare. “No, of _course_ not, you idiot.” Oikawa turned sideways, not looking at Iwaizumi anymore. “See, you always _do_ this. You always make more questions and more rumors about us. It’s so annoying. Why do you have to be so stupid?”

“Excuse me?” Iwaizumi replied, starting to feel angry himself. “No one would have to make up rumors if you could just be honest.”

Oikawa scoffed. “Are you calling me a liar?”

“No,” Iwaizumi replied. However, Oikawa was still glaring at him, and it _pissed_ Iwaizumi off. He rethought his answer. “Or –actually- yes. It’s like your whole life is just one big game of pretend! You _pretend_ to be fine, you _pretend_ like you’re okay, you _pretend_ to have a perfect home life-“

“Shut up!” Oikawa near shrieked. “Don’t bring that up in front of other people! Don’t bring that up _ever_. God, when did you turn out to be such a jerk?”

“I’m not being a jerk! I’m just saying, if you could be real for two seconds, then people would _know_ what we were doing in that bathroom stall. And they would _know_ why things are tense between us and why I care about you despite you treating me like _trash_ ,” Iwaizumi said, frustrations coming out all at once. He was sick of the rumors, and he was frustrated with Oikawa keeping everything to himself. But he didn’t _actually_ mind Oikawa wanting to keep some things private, and he didn’t think Oikawa treated him all that poorly. He was just upset and irrational. Iwaizumi couldn’t _always_ be reasonable, even if he was the most sane person in his friend group.

Oikawa kicked over a bottle of cleanser. It spilled onto the floor, making the room smell twice as chemical-filled as before. Oikawa coughed into his elbow, most likely due to the fumes. “What do you want from me?” he croaked.

“A fucking _thank you_ for starters,” Iwaizumi said.

Oikawa arched an eyebrow, coughing into his elbow again. “A thank you? For _what?_ For letting you cling to me, and bother me, and hang out with me, even when I want to be alone? Because, frankly, Iwaizumi, the only thing I could possibly thank you for is for being an inconvenience, and funnily enough, I’m _not actually grateful for that_.” His hands were shaking as he spoke, and Iwaizumi felt guilty for making him reach this point.

“You don’t mean that,” he said weakly, the heat leaving his voice.

“No, I do. You ruin everything. I’m going home,” Oikawa said, grabbing his gym bag and walking out of the clubroom without finishing his share of the cleaning.

An awkward silence settled over the clubroom in Oikawa’s wake. No one moved a muscle. Meanwhile, Iwaizumi’s shoulders shook as he tried not to think about how angry Oikawa had been and how embarrassed he was by their argument.

“So...” Matsukawa said, breaking through the quiet. “I guess we still need a fourth person for a good Call of Duty game, huh?”

“Play by yourselves,” Iwaizumi said, throwing his sponge in the tipped over bucket before grabbing his stuff to leave. He needed some air.

* * *

“Iwaizumi-san?”

Iwaizumi turned around in his desk. Aya had been whispering all day about him and Oikawa like he couldn’t hear her. Word got around the school fast, and everyone had heard about their fight.

Iwaizumi was pretty sure Kaneo had told people about it. He probably didn’t mean to start a rumor, but Iwaizumi knew him well enough to know that he couldn’t keep a secret, even when he desperately wanted to. He couldn’t blame him for telling one or two people, and he couldn’t be mad at him for the rumors that followed. Kaneo was a good kid. It was all Iwaizumi and Oikawa’s fault, anyway. They had been the ones who were fighting.

“What?” he asked. Aya was one of the girls who snuck into morning practice, and Iwaizumi was just about _done_ with Oikawa’s fans.

“Um, well... I’m sorry to bother you, but my friends and I were talking, and... and, well... um...”

“ _What?”_ he prompted, willing her to speed up and ask her question already.

Aya squeaked and shrunk back due to his harsh tone. “Um, well we were just wondering what’s going on between you two. No one seems to know what’s happening, we all just know you’re fighting and that Oikawa seems sad about it,” she explained.

Iwaizumi blinked. What _was_ going on between him and Oikawa? “The fuck if I have any idea,” he admitted. “If you want answers, you’ll have to ask someone else because _I_ don’t even know what’s going on with us.”

Aya seemed confused, but she took it as an answer. Meanwhile, Iwaizumi turned his seat to face the blackboard.

One of these days, the rumors would die down, and people would stop assuming things were going on between him and Oikawa. But until that day, Iwaizumi was stuck dealing with absolute nonsense.

* * *

Another toss flew up, arching perfectly in the air. It was impeccably distanced between the attack line and the net. Any spiker would feel lucky to hit a toss like that.

Iwaizumi didn’t fool himself into thinking it was for him.

“Heisuke!” Oikawa called, but Heisuke was already running for the ball. Oikawa had been favoring him for the whole scrimmage. If he wasn’t tossing to Heisuke, he was tossing to Hanamaki or Kaneo. He had even thrown a couple of balls to their middle blockers, Matsukawa and Motomu, but not once to Iwaizumi.

Never _once._

It was stupid because Iwaizumi definitely had the strongest spike out of all the first years. He may be distracted by Oikawa’s muscles in the mornings when they were supposed to be conditioning, but if anything, staring at Oikawa made him work _harder_ because he was so frustrated by him. It pushed him to keep doing push-ups and bicep curls until his arms felt like they were going to give out.

No one could beat Iwaizumi at arm wrestling, and _no one could beat him at spiking._ There was no good reason for Oikawa not to toss to him.

Heisuke’s spike was blocked. He coughed into his shoulder as he landed. “Oikawa, I’m getting pretty tired, and I think Kaneo’s legs are going to give out if you make him jump one more time. Maybe toss to Iwaizumi, he’d get past the blocks better,” Heisuke said. As grumpy as Heisuke could be, he was also pretty perceptive, and he _always_ stuck up for his friends.

Heisuke’s priorities were as follows:  
1\. Protect Kaneo  
2\. Protect his friends  
3\. Complain about everything that could possibly be complained about

Iwaizumi had seen him operate that way time and time again, and he was seeing it now. He was glad that Heisuke cared about him enough to try to get Oikawa to toss to him.

“Fine, I won’t toss to you or Kaneo any more,” Oikawa agreed.

The second years threw up another serve, and Iwaizumi managed to receive it. The toss went up, and Iwaizumi got ready to jump.

“Motomu!” Oikawa shouted.

Iwaizumi tripped as he tried to keep himself from jumping. Motomu seemed surprised by the call –he had thought it was going to Iwaizumi, too- and he ended up missing the ball completely. Motomu swiped air, and the ball landed on their side of the court with a dull thump.

Heisuke gritted his teeth together. “Oikawa, what the _fuck_? We’re losing by, like, seven points. Just toss to Iwaizumi already!”

“Yeah,” Kaneo agreed. “Come on, Oikawa.”

“Come on!”

“Just toss to him!”

“No!” Oikawa yelled, cutting in to all of the team’s demands.

“Well, why _not?”_ Heisuke asked. He sounded more aggressive than Iwaizumi was used to hearing him. It was almost scary, how angry Heisuke could sound.

“Because I don’t _want_ to!”

“That’s stupid!” Heisuke replied. “He’s our best spiker, and it’s dumb to not toss to him just because you’re mad at him for some stupid reason. Leave your personal problems off the court, we’re trying to win a game here!”

Iwaizumi wiped sweat off from his forehead, choosing not to speak up. He didn’t want to cause any more tension between him and Oikawa. Their relationship was fragile, and he was tired of fucking it up. Oikawa looked furious enough as it was, his eyebrows pinched together and his hand on one hip.

It had been a long practice. It was already 5:30 and they were _still here._ Iwaizumi had never wanted to go home so badly in his life. His body was tired, and he hadn’t even done any work in this scrimmage. It was no wonder why everyone was being so grumpy with each other.

Their captain finally seemed to notice what was happening on their side of the gym. The third years were in the middle of their own scrimmage, but all of their shouting had managed to catch Morioka’s attention. “Hey, what’s happening over there?” he asked, putting a pause to his game.

The first years were silent. Everyone seemed a little sheepish for fighting and complaining, and it was clear that no one wanted to say anything. Oddly enough, Motomu was the only one brave enough to speak up. “Everyone is frustrated because Oikawa won’t toss to Iwaizumi,” he said quietly.

Morioka frowned. “And why not?”

“Because Oikawa and Iwaizumi have personal issues, and it’s stupid as _fuck_ ,” Heisuke blurted out, turning red when he realized that he had just cursed in front of his captain.

Morioka glared, but he didn’t comment on Heisuke’s language. Instead he turned to Oikawa. He looked exasperated. “Oikawa, come here.”

The gym was filled with ‘oooh’s as Oikawa walked over. Honestly, as frustrated as Iwaizumi was that Oikawa hadn’t been tossing to him, he felt bad for him. It was never good to get in trouble with your captain.

Morioka went to the effort of speaking in hushed tones to Oikawa, but Iwaizumi could still pick out words, even from across the gym.

“I’ve been trying to make you into a team player.”

“You still just don’t get it.”

“It’s important to talk to and trust your teammates.”

As Morioka spoke to Oikawa, the setter’s face twisted up. His hands were balled into fists at his side. Iwaizumi could see them shaking from across the court, and he realized that Oikawa was on the verge of tears.

Morioka dismissed him after a couple minutes, but Oikawa didn’t come back to finish their game. Instead, he started walking towards the gym doors, and Iwaizumi felt sick. He rushed over and caught Oikawa by the back of his t-shirt before he could leave. “Hey, c’mon-“

“What do _you_ want?” Oikawa asked, glaring at Iwaizumi over his shoulder. His face was red as a tomato, and Iwaizumi was pretty sure he saw a tear track running from the corner of his eye to his jaw line.

Iwaizumi’s hand tightened on Oikawa’s practice shirt. “I’m not letting you run off just to cry by yourself again. You can’t keep doing that.”

“God, well what would _you_ know, Iwa-chan?” Oikawa asked, ducking his head low. There was a tremor in his shoulders; Iwaizumi could feel it under his hand. “You don’t know _anything_. Just go _away.”_

Oikawa turned around quickly and pushed Iwaizumi so that he almost toppled over. Before Iwaizumi could catch him again, Oikawa ran out of the gym. It felt so familiar: catching Oikawa just to have him slip away. Iwaizumi grunted and dug the heels of his palms into his eyes.

“You should probably go after him,” Morioka said, coming up behind Iwaizumi.

Iwaizumi sighed. “You’re right. I keep trying to give him space, but I don’t think it’s working.”

Morioka looked at him thoughtfully. Eventually, he clapped Iwaizumi square on the back, the force of it strong enough to send him stumbling forward a few steps. “Figure this out, kid. I have high expectations for you first years, don’t let me down.”

Iwaizumi nodded. “I won’t,” he promised.

He took a second to re-tie a loose shoelace before running out of the gym to find Oikawa. He could figure this out. He _had_ to.

* * *

Iwaizumi had to search three bathrooms before he found a stall that was occupied. He went into the stall next to the taken one, listening for crying. At the sound of the first sniffle, he stood up on the toilet and peered into the other cubical. A familiar mop of brown hair and Seijoh-blue t-shirt was there to greet him.

“Ha, got you,” Iwaizumi said proudly, forgetting the reason he was searching for Oikawa in the first place.

Oikawa looked up, fear clear on his face before it morphed into anger. “I thought I told you _go away_ ,” he said.

He wasn’t crying exactly, but it was obvious that he was still upset. Maybe his tears had run out, or maybe he was still just trying to keep it together. Either way, Iwaizumi felt like it was time for Oikawa to stop being sad alone.

Oikawa had been alone for much too long.

Iwaizumi chose to ignore him. Instead of responding to his angry comment, he just rested his chin on his hands, leaning over the top of the stall. “I’m starting to think that leaving you on your own is a bad idea, if this is what you’re going to do,” Iwaizumi said casually. Oikawa’s nose crinkled and he ducked his head down. “Why don’t you come out of there, and we can go sit somewhere. There’s a nice bench in the courtyard.”

“Why would I do that with _you_?”

“Come on, Oikawa, give yourself a break,” Iwaizumi practically begged. Oikawa didn’t move, and Iwaizumi sighed, jumping off of the toilet he was standing on. He waited outside the door to Oikawa’s stall, leaning up against one of the sinks. Eventually, the door creaked open.

“... There’s a bench?” Oikawa asked.

Iwaizumi nodded. “Yeah, a nice one.”

He led Oikawa down stairs and out into the courtyard. He started by dragging him by the wrist, but somehow along the way, their fingers intertwined. There was a stone bench underneath a big, red oak tree, and Iwaizumi dragged Oikawa over to it.

“Okay.” He kneeled down by Oikawa’s feet. “Talk.”

Oikawa cringed. “About what?”

“I don’t know. Whatever has been bothering you,” Iwaizumi replied. When Oikawa didn’t open his mouth to say anything, Iwaizumi punched his knee. “C’mon. No one else would be mad about admitting they’re childhood friends with someone,” he said. It had been bothering him for ages, how in denial Oikawa was about it. “Why does that piss you off so much?”

Oikawa still didn’t say anything.

“Listen, if I know _why_ you don’t like it, then maybe I can do something to make you feel better,” he explained. He knew his voice was a little too gruff and angry for a conversation like this, but Oikawa knew him. He should feel safe to talk.

Iwaizumi decided to be patient. It worked earlier when he was waiting for Oikawa to come out of the bathroom stall, maybe it would work now.

After a couple of minutes, Oikawa opened his mouth. “I just don’t want anyone to know about the... the...”

“Neglect?” Iwaizumi filled in.

Oikawa looked up sharply. He looked so hurt and so _very, very sad_ , but he nodded anyway. “It’s really...” His voice broke off and he took a shaky breath. “Embarrassing.”

“Well, Tooru...” Iwaizumi said, slipping back into using Oikawa’s given name. “I would _never_ tell anyone about it. Of _course_ I wouldn’t, that’s really personal to you,” he promised. He had his hands on both of Oikawa’s knees, his thumbs rubbing circles into his skin distractedly. “It’s not embarrassing, though, okay? You don’t have to feel bad about it.”

Oikawa shook his head. He looked terrified. “No, though. No, because if people knew, then they’d know how... how...”

“How what?”

Oikawa’s eyes widened and his bottom lip quivered. “I don’t know if I can trust you,” he said instead of answering, and Iwaizumi sighed. That was fair. He had hurt Oikawa in fourth grade. He had betrayed him by spilling his secret. Oikawa had every reason to be wary around him; hopefully, soon he would realize that Iwaizumi had only ever had his best intentions at heart.

“Okay... Okay, that’s fair,” Iwaizumi agreed, getting up to sit next to Oikawa on the bench.

Oikawa had his face buried in his hands, but he still scooted closer to Iwaizumi. Every couple of breaths, he would move a little closer, until eventually, he was resting his head on Iwaizumi’s shoulder.

Iwaizumi let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding. He let his arm fall around Oikawa’s shoulders. “You always were one to keep it all in, weren’t you?” he asked, talking more to Oikawa’s hair than his face with this positioning.

“Iwa-chan, _so rude_. Can’t you see I’m upset?”

Iwaizumi smirked and ran a couple of fingers through Oikawa’s hair. “Yeah, I can,” he replied gently. He hadn’t realized his voice could be so soft; he was usually so angry. “But you’re going to be okay, Tooru. You’ll see.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okie dokie, so that's it! I'm gonna try to get to the next chapter sooner, I just hit a real wall while writing this so it took forever, I'm so sorry. 
> 
> My tumblr is [@thecheekybrunette](http://thecheekybrunette.tumblr.com/). Feel free to message me even if we aren't mutuals or I've never talked to you or whatever. I feel like I need to make more friends, so even if you just want to talk about Haikyuu, I'm game!


	4. Out of Character

Iwaizumi was looking down -tying his shoelaces- when another set of sneakers came into his field of vision. His eyes traveled upwards to find Oikawa hovering over him.

Oikawa winced when they made eye contact. “Hey, um... So I guess I’ll toss to you at practice today?” he asked, scratching the back of his neck sheepishly.

Iwaizumi straightened out. He had never made it back to practice with Oikawa after their argument yesterday, and while they had definitely managed to come to some sort of understanding, things were definitely still tense between them.

Iwaizumi lifted his snapback and ran a hand over his shortly cropped hair. “Well, I’d hope so,” he said. He held his hat in his lap, anxiously rotating it in his hands. Oikawa seemed to notice how nervous he was and offered him a smile.

“Okay, well then... Great,” he said, putting his hands on his hips.

“Great,” Iwaizumi repeated, nodding frantically.

Oikawa took a second to pull up his kneepads. Silence stretched between them until Iwaizumi coughed into his hands and Oikawa started backing up towards the door of the clubroom. “All right. I’ll... I’ll see you out there,” Oikawa said before turning around and leaving for the gym.

Iwaizumi was practically frozen as he watched him go, but he wasn’t the only one. The second Oikawa left, the clubroom seemed to bustle to life again. “That’s it!” Hanamaki exclaimed. “I give up on figuring him out! One second he’s screaming and storming out, the next he’s shy and _nice?_ Why is he so _weird?_ ” he asked, throwing his hands up in the air.

“Bro, you are _way_ too invested in Iwaizumi and Oikawa’s love life. You sound like one of the girls in his fan club,” Matsukawa said with an eye roll, only to get hit in the side of the head with a stray gym bag.

“What do you mean _love life?_ ” Iwaizumi asked, already reaching for something else to throw at Matsukawa. Iwaizumi lobbed a dress shoe, a textbook, and a water bottle at him before he could get a word in edgewise.

“Ah, relax, relax!” Matsukawa shouted. He had his hands up in front of him, half in surrender and half to block whatever else Iwaizumi found to throw at him. “I know you guys aren’t gay for each other, or whatever, I was just making a joke! About the bathroom rumors! Come on, man, we’re cool!” he said, and Iwaizumi’s hands balled up into fists by his side.

“Just a joke?”

“Of course! I wasn’t trying to be a jerk. I’m _sorry_ ,” Matsukawa said, his eyes wide and honest. Iwaizumi looked away from him and blinked a couple times. He had no idea why he had gotten so angry about such a passing comment. Matsukawa had become one of his closest friends at Aobajōsai, and he had flipped out on him for absolutely no reason.

Iwaizumi’s shoulders deflated. “Okay... Sorry for flipping out,” he said.

Matsukawa shrugged. “It’s cool as long as we’re cool, you know?” he asked, and Iwaizumi grunted in affirmation. He turned around to change into his practice shirt. As he spun, however, he noticed Hanamaki’s posture seemed... off. He looked uncomfortable, but Iwaizumi was finished getting dressed before he could process it.

He was too busy thinking about Oikawa to dissect Hanamaki’s feelings anyway.

Practice was long and grueling. Their coach had decided to drill spikes all day, making them switch between their weak and strong sides. By the time the balls were put away and they got to stretching, Iwaizumi felt like his arms were about to fall off.

“All right, boys: Partner stretches. Pair up!” Coach Irihata shouted.

Iwaizumi’s eyes flickered towards his friends. He usually paired up with Motomu for stretches, but the other boy had already been pulled into a cluster of second years. Kaneo was with Heisuke; Matsukawa was with Hanamaki...

Iwaizumi’s gaze met Oikawa’s.

Oikawa smushed his toes together. “You wanna....?”

Iwaizumi shrugged. “I guess. I can lie down first, and you can- Or, I mean, you can lie down first, and I’ll-“

“You always complain about your hip flexors,” Oikawa pointed out. “Why don’t you lay down first?”

Iwaizumi nodded shakily at the offer. He didn’t expect to be so nervous around Oikawa. He thought they had already passed the awkward phase, but their latest fight had left them raw.

Still, Iwaizumi had never been one to let personal problems get in the way of volleyball, so he got down on the floor regardless of the tension between them. He lifted one of his legs for Oikawa to press back towards his chest. He felt like he was walking on eggshells. (The words “I don’t know if I can trust you” repeated over and over in his mind.)

Oikawa kneeled between his legs. He didn’t seem to hesitate when he reached to grab Iwaizumi’s ankle. One of his broad hands rested on top of Iwaizumi’s thigh, keeping it flush to the floor as he pushed his opposite foot as far back as Iwaizumi’s flexibility allowed it to go.

Iwaizumi’s cheeks flushed. This had never been a big deal before –stretching with a partner- but suddenly it felt _obscenely_ intimate. He inwardly counted down the seconds until Oikawa switched legs.

When Oikawa was done, Iwaizumi flipped over to his stomach. This time Oikawa _did_ hesitate. It took him a long while to sit on Iwaizumi’s calves and pull his arms back behind him. Iwaizumi huffed and puffed a little as he held half of bow pose. He tried to let Oikawa do the work and pull his arms back for him, but he was too flustered.

“You holding up okay?” Oikawa asked.

“...Sure,” Iwaizumi answered as Oikawa let him lower back onto the floor.

He suffered through a few more poses, although none of them were quite as physical. Most of them just included Oikawa pressing his back or knees down that half-inch further; however, Iwaizumi still held his breath through it all. It took ages, but eventually, it came time for them to switch positions so Oikawa could stretch.

“Be careful with me, I’m fragile,” Oikawa said, holding up his nose daintily. It was probably supposed to look haughty and prim, but really it just gave Iwaizumi a clear view up his nostrils.

“I’m sure you are,” Iwaizumi said with an eye roll. However, his mouth went dry when he took his spot between Oikawa’s knees.

“I’m waiting,” Oikawa said, rolling his ankle in Iwaizumi’s face.

Iwaizumi reanimated. He hadn’t realized how frozen he had been. “I _know_ that,” he snapped, and for once, Oikawa didn’t have some kind of retort waiting for him. Instead, he let Iwaizumi’s fingers wrap around his ankle. Iwaizumi startled when he realized how slender Oikawa’s legs were. Even if he wasn’t the same emaciated fourth grader he had known in elementary school, Oikawa was still outrageously slim for someone so tall. Iwaizumi’s fingers could wrap all the way around the thin part of his calf.

Iwaizumi pressed forward on Oikawa’s leg. It was supposed to stretch up towards his chest, but it stopped before it could make even a 90-degree angle with the ground.

“Oikawa, have you ever stretched before in your life?” he asked. He was so inflexible.

“Shut up!” Oikawa replied, his face pinched up with discomfort as Iwaizumi tried to force his leg a little further back. Iwaizumi couldn’t help it; he laughed at Oikawa’s reddening face. “I said shut up!” Oikawa yelped.

“N-No,” Iwaizumi said, laughing. It was taking everything he had not to curl inwards on himself. “No, I can’t... I can’t-“ Tears sprung into his eyes as he laughed, and Oikawa wailed underneath him.

“Stop it!”

“I’m _sorry!_ ” Iwaizumi laughed. “It’s just... you’re like an old man with your sore hips and your grumpy attitude-“

“I’m not grumpy!”

“But you _are_ ,” Iwaizumi replied. “Like, _all the time_. And it’s _so funny._ ”

Oikawa frowned, crossing his arms defensively across his chest. However, after a few moments of Iwaizumi laughing, a smile stretched across his lips. Soon, Oikawa was snickering, too, which only made Iwaizumi giggle harder. He rested his forehead against the calf Oikawa still had stretched up in the air.

Someone clearing their throat above them made them break apart.

Iwaizumi looked up to see Coach Mizoguchi standing above him. “I think that’s enough for the right side, boys. Let’s move things along. I’d like to leave the gym before the sun goes down,” he said gruffly.

Iwaizumi nodded quickly, intimidated. “You’re right, sorry, sir.”

“It won’t happen again!” Oikawa promised, looking just as nervous.

Coach Mizoguchi frowned. He tucked his clipboard under one arm. “Well, see to it,” he said, leaving after he had disciplined them to his apparent standard.

Oikawa and Iwaizumi looked at the ground, ashamed for goofing off during practice. However, after a beat, a smirk crept up Iwaizumi’s face again. He snuck a glance at Oikawa, and that was all it took to send them giggling again. Oikawa hid his face in his hands, shoulders shaking as he laughed, and Iwaizumi all but collapsed on top of him, trying not to laugh out loud.

Finally, things felt normal again.

* * *

Iwaizumi glared at his paper as he tried to make heads or tails of his worksheet. Math was his hardest subject, and geometry hadn’t been kind to him this year. Maybe things would be easier if he didn’t have so many distractions in his classroom. Unfortunately, the girls behind him were as chatty as they had been at the beginning of the year.

“I mean, did you see how they were _stretching_ yesterday? Plus the whole bathroom thing... He’s probably gay. There’s no point in going after him,” one of the louder girls –Shiho- said.

“Are you joking? He only dates girls! And not only that, but he dates _a lot of girls_ ,” another argued. “He’s obviously straight.”

Iwaizumi felt sick. Didn’t they know he could hear them? Also, it wasn’t like partner stretching was a big deal. All of the guys had to do it, especially on conditioning-heavy days. Why did they have to twist it into something more meaningful than it was?

Iwaizumi felt his heartbeat start to race. This was so stressful to listen to. Shiho in particular was making him feel panicked. “It was probably just a cover up, or like... maybe he was in denial. It’s been ages since he’s dated anyone, and you _know_ it’s because he’s done with girls and he’s waiting for the right guy to come along,” she said.

Aya flipped her hair, and a couple stray pieces whipped the back of Iwaizumi’s collar. He sunk a little lower in his seat. “Listen. Tooru has been texting me for ages now, I think I know him best,” she said haughtily.

“Yeah? And what do you think?” one of the other girls asked.

Iwaizumi’s breath hitched. What _did_ she think?”

“I think he’s _way_ too flirty to be anything but straight,” she said. Iwaizumi puffed out a sigh of relief. However, as soon as his anxiety dissipated, he was left with a sour feeling as his stomach started tying itself in knots. Why was this making him so uneasy?

Iwaizumi tried to calm himself by diving back into his practice problems. Maybe if he focused on his math, he’d relax a little. Honestly, anything was better than thinking about this.

If there was one thing Iwaizumi was tired of, it was stressing out over Oikawa.

* * *

“Tooru!”

“Tooru, up here!”

“Play your best, Oikawa-san!”

Iwaizumi nearly gagged at the cheesy smile and wave Oikawa offered his fan girls. He was always so quick to indulge them, and it drove Iwaizumi crazy. Maybe if the girls weren’t _constantly_ talking about Oikawa behind his back it wouldn’t bother him so much, but they never let Oikawa have any kind of privacy.

“Careful, Iwaizumi,” Matsukawa said, nudging Iwaizumi with his elbow. “You’re jealousy is showing.”

“I’m not jealous,” Iwaizumi said, brushing Matsukawa off. However, he couldn’t stop glaring at the girls on the balcony. They were a distraction to practice. Iwaizumi couldn’t understand why the coaches –who were so serious and demanding all of the time- allowed them to stay and interrupt drills with their shrieking. It was ridiculous.

“Listen, it’s every guy’s dream to have a hoard of girls cheering for them, but not all of us can be the beautiful, popular Oikawas of the world,” Matsukawa said, forcing himself into Iwaizumi’s space and throwing an arm around his shoulder. “We just have to accept it.”

Heisuke snorted from behind them. “Matt-chi, it sounds like _you’re_ the one who’s jealous,” he said, and Matsukawa made a squawking noise in protest.

“Hey! Only Hanamaki is allowed to call me Matt-chi!” Matsukawa demanded. Hanamaki looked over from across the gym, his eyes widening in excitement. Matsukawa quickly backtracked. “Or actually, no, _no one_ is allowed to call me Matt-chi. That’s off limits,” he rectified.

“Matt-chi! Don’t tell me you’re starting to _like_ my pet names.” Hanamaki cooed. His voice echoed against the hard floors of the gym, and Matsukawa blushed bright pink.

“Fuck off.”

Hanamaki gasped, scandalized. “Matt-chi, don’t be vulgar!” he chastised, wagging a finger.

Iwaizumi quit listening. He ignored their arguement, even when Matsukawa practically threw himself across the room to tackle Hanamaki. He focused instead on the girls up on the balcony and how Oikawa was indulging them. He had to bite his tongue to keep from voicing his disgust.

Instead of complaining, he marched over to Oikawa and smacked him on the back. He smirked when Oikawa almost toppled over with the force of it. “Ow, Iwa-chan, you’re so aggressive!” Oikawa complained, but Iwaizumi didn’t bother to acknowledge it.

“Hey, are you free tomorrow?”

Oikawa straightened up at Iwaizumi’s question. He arched an eyebrow at him. “Um, yeah... Why?” he asked, straightening out his shirt and fixing his hair even though everything was just as in place and perfect as ever. Iwaizumi hated how put together Oikawa was, even during practice.

“I was wondering if you’d want to come over,” he said, trying and failing to sound casual. He didn’t know why he was even _asking_. He just... didn’t want to see Oikawa’s stupid fan girls get any more attention than he did.

“To your _house?”_ Oikawa squeaked.

Iwaizumi frowned. He had always considered his house to be a second home to Oikawa. Surely he couldn’t have forgotten all of the time they had spent together holed up in Iwaizumi’s living room with Totoro playing on the screen. “Yeah,” he said. He lowered his voice a little. “I think it would make my mom really happy to see you.”

Oikawa looked terrified for a second before his usual carefully crafted expression slid back over his features. Iwaizumi bit the inside of his cheeks. He hated when Oikawa looked cool and uncaring like this, especially when he knew that Oikawa felt so much more than he let on. “...Okay. I was planning on working on serves, but if you so _desperately_ want me to come over-“

“Shut up,” Iwaizumi complained. He punched Oikawa’s shoulder, but a fond smile slipped up his face anyway. “Also, my dad is doing some new menu stuff, so you can stay for dinner if you want.”

Oikawa’s eyes softened the slightest bit. Iwaizumi liked to think that he was the only one who could notice something so subtle in Oikawa’s expression. “All right... I’ll tell my grandma,” he said quietly so that no one else in the gym would overhear.

Morioka called everyone to start morning practice, and Iwaizumi clapped Oikawa on the shoulder, satisfied that he had stolen enough of his attention away from his obnoxious fans.

* * *

When Iwaizumi came home from school, he found his mom weeding in the front garden. She had a basket beside her, filled with dirt and roots, and long gardening gloves covering her hands. If there was one thing his mother hated, it was ruining her manicure.

“Hajime! My strong, able-bodied son! How about you come help your poor, frail, _aging_ mother with the chores, huh?” she suggested.

Iwaizumi snorted. “I’ll help, but you’re the _furthest_ thing from frail,” he said with an eye roll. He dropped his backpack in the grass and kneeled next to his mother. “Hey, would it be okay if Oikawa came over tomorrow? I sort of already invited him over for dinner,” he said sheepishly, pulling out a particularly stubborn weed.

His mom blinked at him. “Oikawa? For dinner?”

Iwaizumi sat back on his ankles, suddenly nervous. “Um... yeah?” he said. His mom was always urging him to invite his friends over; he had expected her to be ecstatic about Oikawa coming for a visit.

“Well, of _course_ , Hajime. There’s nothing I love more than feeding that boy,” she said, dusting her hands off and putting them on her hips.

Iwaizumi’s shoulders released tension he hadn’t realized they’d been carrying. “Okay, great,” he said, relieved. He pulled out a couple more weeds, thinking about how often his mom offered Oikawa food when they were little. She always let him stay for dinner and take snacks from their pantry. Not for the first time, Iwaizumi wondered what would have happened if she hadn’t made sure Oikawa was eating enough. “You know, sometimes I think, like... you like... probably single-handedly prevented Oikawa from starving to death.” The thought was harrowing, but then, most of Oikawa’s childhood was.

His mom hummed. “Maybe... I used to let you both sneak candy up to your room all the time,” she said reminiscently.

Iwaizumi yanked on a weed with both hands, almost falling backwards when it finally budged free from the dirt. “Wait. _Let_ us?” he asked, busying himself with a couple of the smaller sprouting clovers near the doorstep.

His mom smirked. “Well, of course,” she said, bending over the garden as she set back to work. “You were never _half_ as sneaky as you thought you were.”

Iwaizumi’s jaw dropped open for a second. “Wait, so all those times we played in the creek without your permission-“

“You dress socks were wet,” his mom answered before he could ask.

“And when I ripped those pages out of the book grandpa bought me?”

“Under your mattress isn’t really a great hiding spot, dear. Who do you think makes your bed?” she asked. Iwaizumi’s cheeks turned pink as he thought about the deodorant he had stolen from Oikawa. It was still jammed up under his box spring. “Don’t be embarrassed, you were usually such a good boy, and you had such a hard time when Oikawa left, I figured I should cut you some slack,” his mother explained.

Iwaizumi scrubbed at his face. “Ugh, no, it’s not that, it’s just...” He didn’t know what to say. He didn’t know what he was feeling, just that he hated thinking about all this stuff. “Mom, do you think I did the right thing? When I told sensei about... about everything with Oikawa?” he asked.

His mom’s hands stilled, weeds forgotten. She looked at Iwaizumi critically, and Iwaizumi felt himself shrinking under her stare. “Hajime... Of _course_ ,” she said. “You said it yourself, he has a lovely apartment now: a real home with his grandmother. It was dangerous for him to live with his parents. You kept him safe by letting an adult know what was happening so that they could help.”

Iwaizumi huffed out a sigh. “Okay.”

His mom bumped their shoulders together. “It doesn’t _sound_ okay,” she said, her gaze shifting into something a little more caring, a little more open. “What are you thinking?”

“I’m thinking that Oikawa was _really mad at me_ when he left _._ And he still... might be. A little. Maybe.” Iwaizumi scratched at his wrist awkwardly. “He yells at me a lot, anyway.”

His mom hummed. She was quiet for a moment, most likely trying to think of the best advice to give him. Iwaizumi didn’t mind waiting. He finished up the weeding and emptied the basket to the garbage while she thought. When he came back, his mom was already sitting on the front porch with a Sudoku in her lap. She looked at him over the bridge of her sunglasses as he made his way to the front door. “Maybe just give him some time,” she suggested. “You’ve always been patient.”

Iwaizumi blew at a strand of hair that had fallen a little low on his forehead. “I guess,” he said passively, going inside. Honestly, being patient seemed harder than usual. He wanted things to be fixed _now._

Iwaizumi kicked off his shoes and started tidying up for Oikawa’s visit (but not before moving Oikawa’s deodorant into a new hiding spot at the bottom of his sock drawer).

* * *

The next day, Oikawa seemed nervous during practice, especially when he was tossing to Iwaizumi. His tosses flew way over Iwaizumi’s fingertips whenever he leapt to spike them, and by the color on Oikawa’s cheeks, Iwaizumi could tell he was embarrassed.

“Another spectacular toss from the king,” Heisuke said dryly when a fourth ball went soaring past Iwaizumi. Oikawa bristled and whirled around to face Heisuke, his hands balled up into fists by his sides.

“What’s your problem?” he yelped.

Iwaizumi darted between his friends, knowing things between them would get out of hand _very quickly_ if someone didn’t step in. “Hey, hey, hey. It’s no big deal, everyone has a bad day sometimes,” he said, trying to placate the situation.

Heisuke snorted and looked away. Fortunately, Kaneo seemed to sense the tension, and ran up to jump on Heisuke’s back. “Ah, Kaneo!” Heisuke rasped as Kaneo’s arms looped tightly around his neck. “You’re choking me!”

“I’m not choking you, I’m hugging the grumpy out of you,” Kaneo corrected, squeezing on tighter and sending Heisuke sputtering.

Iwaizumi looked over to Oikawa. “You wanna try one more?” he asked, offering to spike for Oikawa again.

Oikawa crinkled his nose and looked away from Iwaizumi. He had been refusing to make eye contact with him all day. “It doesn’t matter to me,” he said evenly, even though it obviously did _matter_ to Oikawa. He had been shaky since the start of practice.

Iwaizumi mopped at his sweaty face with the hem of his t-shirt. Just talking with Oikawa was exhausting. “Listen, is something wrong?” he asked. “Do you not want to come over or something?” He really wanted to hang out with Oikawa after practice, but if it was affecting him this much, then he didn’t want to push it.

Oikawa finally – _finally-_ looked at him. “What?” he asked. “No, of course I do.”

“Then why have you been weird about it all day?” Iwaizumi asked. His house used to be such a safe place for Oikawa. He hadn’t planned on inviting him over yesterday, but now that he had, he wanted to remind Oikawa that he still had a home with his family.

“It’s just...” Oikawa seemed flustered, his walls lowering for a moment. “Look, can we talk about it later? In private?” Oikawa’s eyes flickered around the gym, and Iwaizumi found himself suddenly aware of the fans on the balcony watching them closely and Hanamaki’s sensitive ears.

_Fucking Hanamaki_.

“Yeah, we’ll talk about it later,” Iwaizumi offered. “But like... relax, okay? This is volleyball. Volleyball is the best. We’re here now, so let’s not think of anything else,” he suggested, clapping Oikawa on the back albeit much softer than usual. Oikawa offered him a weak smile before jogging off to retrieve the ball he’d sent rolling away.

When he came back, his tosses were cleaner. In fact, they were so precise Heisuke ran out of things to say. Oikawa didn’t pay much more attention to Iwaizumi, but after a particularly coordinated attack, Iwaizumi found them sharing a smile. He held his hand up for a high five that Oikawa accepted immediately.

“Ow,” Iwaizumi complained, shaking his stinging hand. Oikawa just beamed at him before getting back to the drill. Iwaizumi couldn’t hide his grin as Oikawa tossed perfectly for a second year in their circuit. Maybe their relationship wasn’t as fragile as Iwaizumi thought.

* * *

“Oikawa, darling, Tooru! Look how big you’ve gotten!” his mother cooed when Iwaizumi brought Oikawa home with him after practice. She was fussing over him before he even managed to get his shoes off. “You’re so tall and handsome! And you look so healthy; look at that shiny hair and glowing skin!”

“Mom, _what_ ,” Iwaizumi deadpanned. Meanwhile, Oikawa preened under his mother’s attention.

Iwaizumi didn’t miss the way Oikawa’s shoulders straightened as his mother cupped his face in both hands and squished his cheeks together. He seemed excited to see her, if a little sheepish. “Sorry for the intrusion,” he said, his cheeks slightly pink. “It’s good to see you again, Obasan.”

“’Good’ is an understatement,” his mother said. “The house finally feels whole again with you here, Tooru. I’m so happy you’ve come to visit. You still like donabe, right? Snapper is good? My husband wants to try and feed you some bizarre pineapple and ham noodle dish, but I won’t let him,” she babbled, her hands resting on Oikawa’s shoulders as she sized him up.

“I’ll eat anything, honestly. Whatever Ojisan chooses to make will be fine. I’m just grateful for the invitation,” Oikawa promised.

Iwaizumi’s mother frowned. “Don’t you dare tell him that,” she warned.

Iwaizumi broke in, grabbing Oikawa’s arm and attempting to drag him upstairs to his bedroom. “Well, okay, thanks, mom, we can talk more at dinner later,” Iwaizumi said dismissively.

“Wait, wait!” Oikawa yelped, flailing as he tried to kick off his shoes before Iwaizumi dragged him through the house.

Eventually, Iwaizumi managed to tug Oikawa upstairs and into his room. He shut the door behind them to prevent his mom from bothering them. When he turned around, he found Oikawa standing in the center of his room, completely still.

Iwaizumi tugged at his collar. “Um...”

“You know, I kind of expected you to have the same bedspread,” Oikawa said, taking in his room. “Remember? The Naruto one?”

“Don’t bring that up,” Iwaizumi said darkly, closing his closet door before Oikawa could find anything incriminating. Oikawa climbed into his bed without an invitation, and flopped back on his pillows.

“Hey!” he said brightly, looking up at his corkboard. “My keychain!”

Iwaizumi followed Oikawa’s line of vision, and blushed when he realized what Oikawa was talking about. There was a little alien keychain hanging off of a pin near the top corner. His corkboard was such a mess, Iwaizumi had forgotten it was there. “Oh, yeah.”

“How’d you get this?” Oikawa asked excitedly, taking it off the board and twirling it between his fingers.

Iwaizumi scratched his cheek. “You, um... threw it at me,” Iwaizumi answered.

Oikawa paled at the memory. “Oh. Right,” he said, suddenly sounding nervous.

There was a long, unbearable pause between them. Iwaizumi didn’t know how to fill the silence without making it awkward. He couldn’t think of a good enough response, so after a too-long break in the conversation, he decided to change the subject. “So, um... Do you wanna play video games? I meant it the other day when I said that we... we didn’t have to play a scary one,” he said, wincing. Only Iwaizumi would bring up _another_ awkward conversation in the middle of an _equally_ awkward conversation.

“I mean... I like Mario Kart well enough,” Oikawa agreed. Iwaizumi couldn’t tell if he was agreeing because he actually liked video games or because he just wanted the awkward silence to end, but either way, Iwaizumi would take it.

Oikawa ended up putting the alien keychain back on its pin, while Iwaizumi set up the game. Soon enough, they were sitting side by side, shoulders brushing while they shouted and pushed each other off of Rainbow Road. The uncomfortable atmosphere between them had dissipated a couple races ago, sometime between Coconut Mall and DK Summit.

“Iwa-chan, I swear to God, if you push me off this road _one more time,_ I’ll- _Iwa-chan!_ ” Oikawa shrieked when Iwaizumi pushed him over the edge and raced by him. “See, this is why I can’t trust you,” he complained.

The words fell out of Iwaizumi’s mouth before he could stop them. “Is it really?”

He stole a glance at Oikawa, who looked paler than usual, and Iwaizumi felt white as a sheet himself. It had been a stupid thing to ask, and he regretted it more than anything he’s ever said.

_Ever._

But it was too late to backtrack now. All Iwaizumi could do was keep his eyes trained on the screen and try to ignore the air thickening between them. Oikawa wavered. “Well... No. Of course not. I don’t not trust you or whatever because of a video game.”

“Well, why then?” Iwaizumi pressed, confetti flying as he made it across the finish line. He started up the next race before the atmosphere could get any more stifling. Oikawa stayed quiet as Delfino Square loaded. “You said you’d talk to me when we were somewhere private. And the last time we talked, things got significantly less... _awful_ between us. So maybe let’s try even if it’s not... manly, or cool, or whatever’s important to you,” he said as casually as possible. His thumb locked down on the number two button on his Wii remote as his motorcycle sped off. Oikawa was delayed on starting the race.

“I said I’d talk about why I was stressed about coming over here, I didn’t say I’d talk about... about other stuff,” Oikawa said, clearly flustered.

Iwaizumi cleared his throat. “Well, talk about anything, then, I don’t care. Why _were_ you stressed, anyway?”

Oikawa did a great job of copying Iwaizumi and clearing his throat, too. “Ah, I don’t know... It’s just been so long, you know? And your mom was _so cool_ in elementary school, and like... I was worried that maybe she wouldn’t be happy to see me. And this place was like...” Oikawa paused, and Iwaizumi waited with baited breath. “It was just the best place in the world, and I might’ve been scared that it wouldn’t feel that way anymore, maybe.”

Iwaizumi let his character slow down, putting more attention into his conversation with Oikawa and less attention into their stupid race. “So how does it feel then?” he asked, scared to hear the answer.

Oikawa took a shaky breath. “Honestly?” he laughed awkwardly. “The only thing that’s changed is the bedspread.”

Iwaizumi couldn’t help it. He stopped looking at the screen to turn and face Oikawa. He hadn’t noticed before, but Oikawa’s hands weren’t even on his Wii remote. Instead he was wringing them in his lap, looking so nervous Iwaizumi would have thought they really _were_ playing a horror game instead of something E rated like Mario Kart.

“Good,” Iwaizumi said. Oikawa looked up at him with startlingly large brown eyes. “That’s good. I’m glad it’s like... nothing’s different, you know? You can come over any time, just like before,” he promised.

Oikawa’s eyes somehow grew even _wider_ , and a smile overtook his face. “Okay,” he said. “Maybe I’ll take you up on that.”

Iwaizumi grunted, too overwhelmed to really speak. He turned his attention back on the television, focused on finishing up the race even though all of the computer-driven characters were nearly at the finish line. There were too many feelings bubbling up in his throat to talk.

They played in silence for a while. Iwaizumi was just happy to have Oikawa over; he didn’t really need to talk to him. After a couple rounds –all of which, Iwaizumi won- his mom called them down for dinner.

The meal was warm and delicious. His parents were just as kind to Oikawa as ever, actively engaging him at the dinner table. Iwaizumi smiled as their questions for Oikawa filled their normally quiet home.

“How are you enjoying Aobajōsai?”

“What’s your favorite subject?”

“Why did you start up volleyball?”

“Isn’t it funny that you and Hajime ended up in the same school on the same team after all of these years?”

Oikawa managed to be charming and polite throughout the entire meal, and Iwaizumi’s parents were quick to voice how proud they were of Oikawa and how happy they were to have him visit. When it came time for Oikawa to catch his train home, Iwaizumi felt confident that Oikawa would definitely come over for dinner again.

“I’ll walk you to the station,” Iwaizumi offered.

Oikawa flipped his hair out of his eyes. “You don’t have to,” he said.

“Yeah, but I’m going to,” Iwaizumi replied, already stuffing his feet into his shoes. He kept close to Oikawa as he walked him to the train stop, trying not to feel too reminiscent as they crossed over the bridge they used to play under. There were still yellow flowers dotting the lawn by the creek, even if Spring was nearly over.

They talked about school and the team as they walked. It was so unbelievably normal and familiar that Iwaizumi had a hard time believing it was real.

Oikawa stopped them both at the steps leading up to the train platform. “Hey. It... it was really cool to visit today. Or, I mean, it was lame, like I’m too popular to visit the houses of stupid volleyball dorks, but-“ Oikawa cut himself off when Iwaizumi punched him in the shoulder. He winced and rubbed at his arm. “But I... Well, I had a really nice time,” he finished, his voice suddenly hoarse.

Iwaizumi blinked. “You’re not crying again, are you?”

“No!” Oikawa stammered, but the pink tinge to the tip of his nose said otherwise. “I just feel like I should return the favor. Like... Like maybe one day, you could come and meet my grandma.”

Iwaizumi sucked in a sharp breath. “I would _love_ to meet your grandma,” he said, and Oikawa wrinkled his nose.

“Okay, well don’t get so excited about it, freak. She’s just one lady,” he said, before the whole of his body seemed to shift into something a little more vulnerable. His posture made him shrink. “But I mean, she’d probably want to meet you, so. It would be awesome if you came over.”

“Dude, I’ll come over whenever,” Iwaizumi promised.

Oikawa opened his mouth to say something, but the tell tale sound of a train rattling down the tracks cut him off. “I have to go,” he said instead, as his train came to a stop. Iwaizumi watched him as he rushed up the steps to the platform, a strange sense of hope filling his chest.

* * *

Matsukawa held his chopsticks out towards Hanamaki hesitantly. “Bro, can I-“

“Go for it,” Hanamaki said, tilting his bento box towards Matsukawa before he could finish. Every day, Matsukawa asked to steal part of Hanamaki’s lunch, and every day, Hanamaki let it happen. Today, Matsukawa was out for Hanamaki’s boiled octopus, and he picked up every piece of tentacle in one smooth swoop of his chopsticks.

“Thanks, man,” Matsukawa said gratefully. Hanamaki crinkled his nose as he watched him slurp all of the tentacles into his mouth at once.

“Gross,” he complained, and Matsukawa opened his mouth to show off the half-chewed octopus. “Grosser! I’m never sharing my lunch with you again.”

“That’s a lie,” Iwaizumi chimed in. As often as Hanamaki gave Iwaizumi crap for giving into Oikawa, he was just as whipped for Matsukawa. Honestly, he had no room to talk. “You’re such a pushover.”

“Yeah? Well, would a pushover do _this?”_ Hanamaki asked, stealing an apple slice from Iwaizumi’s lunch box.

“Hey! You know I save the apples for last!” Iwaizumi complained.

Hanamaki groaned. “Alright, fine, here,” he said, tossing the apple back. Iwaizumi caught it one hand and ate it before Hanamaki could change his mind and try to steal it again. Meanwhile, Matsukawa snickered behind his hand.

“Honestly, that’s exactly what a pushover would do,” Matsukawa said. “You can’t even steal something to prove a point.”

Hanamaki’s eyes narrowed. “You guys are the worst. I don’t know why I eat lunch with you.”

Iwaizumi grunted around a mouthful of rice. He batted away Matsukawa’s hand when he reached for a radish. “Maybe we just need a change of subject,” Iwaizumi grumbled.

Hanamaki straightened out at the thought. “You’re right. A change of subject is _just_ what we need,” he said. Iwaizumi winced. He didn’t like Hanamaki’s tone; he only got excited like this when he was about to do something stupid or talk about something nasty. “Fuck, marry, kill: Kaneo, Heisuke, and Motomu,” he demanded.

Both Matsukawa and Iwaizumi groaned. “And you say _I’m_ gross,” Matsukawa complained.

“It’s not gross, it’s just _weird_ ,” Iwaizumi said. He didn’t like thinking about his friends like that.

“Stall as much as you want, but I need an answer,” Hanamaki said, leaning forward with interest. Iwaizumi put his hand to his chin as he thought; although, he still managed to smack Matsukawa’s hand away when he reached for his bento box again.

“Okay, I’d probably kill Kaneo. He’s too innocent to force into marriage or a one night stand,” Iwaizumi admitted.

Matsukawa nodded. “Seconded.”

Iwaizumi grunted in appreciation, and scratched the back of his neck. “I guess I’d have sex with Heisuke because... I mean, it would probably be hateful and aggressive, but like I’ve heard that can be... enjoyable.”

“Ew, Iwaizumi, stop talking,” Hanamaki said.

Iwaizumi’s eyebrow twitched. “You’re the one who asked in the first place,” he said, smacking him upside the head. “And I’m not done! I’d marry Motomu just because I like... don’t understand him and I want to get inside his brain.”

“Fair enough,” Matsukawa agreed. “I’d probably do the opposite. Motomu’s so quiet; it’s weird. I’d rather just get things over with and have sex with him. One and done, you know?” he asked. “And then I’d want to marry Heisuke because I feel like if we were married, he’d be on my side, and he’s the kind of person you don’t really wanna like... be against, you know?”

Iwaizumi hummed in understanding. Movement in the courtyard outside caught his eye, and he looked out the window. “Hey, wait, is that Oikawa?” Iwaizumi asked.

Hanamaki looked where Iwaizumi was looking. “I swear, you have a sixth sense when it comes to finding Oikawa in weird places,” Hanamaki said. “But yeah, that’s him.”

Iwaizumi frowned. If it really _was_ Oikawa, then he wasn’t alone. “Who is that girl with him?”

“Probably his girlfriend of the week,” Matsukawa said disinterestedly. “But hey. Fuck, marry, kill: Morioka, Coach Irihata, and Coach Mizoguchi.”

“Matt-chi, you’re so nasty,” Hanamaki snickered, but Iwaizumi didn’t laugh with him. His eyes were still glued to the window. It took him an embarrassingly long time to realize he was staring and an even longer time to realize he felt sick.

He knew Oikawa was Aobajōsai’s resident ladies man, and he had seen him text girls before, but it had never sunk in that Oikawa was _actually_ dating other people. Iwaizumi only saw Oikawa in practice. He hardly ever saw him around the school, and Iwaizumi realized that he didn’t know _anything_ about how Oikawa acted around other people.

Apparently, he was a flirt.

Iwaizumi’s eyes flickered back to Oikawa for a moment, ignoring his friends’ conversation. Nausea swelled up in him when he saw Oikawa tuck the girl’s hair behind her ear.

He forced himself to tear his eyes away. Whatever Oikawa wanted to do with his girlfriends was his business. “I’d probably have sex with Irihata,” he blurted out, making Matsukawa and Hanamaki blink at him for a moment before bursting into laughter. Iwaizumi smiled weakly. Breathe in, breathe out.

* * *

“Cannonball!” Kaneo shouted, jumping a little too close to Heisuke and dousing him with water.

Motomu clicked his tongue judgmentally from his lawn chair. He had opted out of swimming with the rest of them. Instead, he stretched out to bask in the sun. He had sunglasses poised on his nose and a book stretched across his lap.

“Motomu, why did you come if you weren’t going to go swimming?” Iwaizumi asked, leaning over the side of the pool and letting his legs kick lazily behind him.

Motomu adjusted his glasses. Sunlight bounced off of them, nearly blinding Iwaizumi. “For the tan,” Motomu answered, before directing his attention back to his novel. Iwaizumi frowned. Sometimes he wished he could read Motomu’s mind, just to know what he was thinking.

“Iwaizumi... Come swim with us,” Hanamaki whined, grabbing onto Iwaizumi’s ankle and pulling him away from the wall. Iwaizumi’s grip tightened on the concrete edge.

“No.”

“Come _on_.”

“ _No._ ”

“Please?”

“No!” Iwaizumi yelped. “I’m sick of swimming with you guys. You keep holding my head underwater.”

Hanamaki pouted. “But we promised we’d stop!”

“You _always_ promise that,” Iwaizumi replied. “And it’s always a lie. I’m sick of getting water up my nose!” he exclaimed, frustrated. Honestly, sometimes he thought that maybe he was getting a little _too_ close with the other first years. He never thought he would have friends who were comfortable enough to _drown_ him.

Hanamaki frowned, crossing his arms over his scrawny chest. “Listen, the pool isn’t fun when you can’t hang out with your friends. Can’t we at least play Colors or something? Like let’s play a _game._ Or at the very least, let’s get away from Motomu, he sucks the fun out of everything.”

Motomu peered at Hanamaki over the top of his glasses, but he didn’t say anything. Iwaizumi sighed and let go of the pool wall. Hanamaki cheered and pulled him out into deeper water.

The pool was empty, despite how warm it was outside. It was the first day this season that the weather actually felt _hot_ , and while the pool was freezing, it was better than sitting at home with no air conditioning. Maybe if he got moving a little bit, his muscles would warm up. When the water was this cold, risking drowning was worth playing a game that could increase his internal body temperature a little bit.

“What’s Colors?” Kaneo asked, surfacing next to Hanamaki’s side. Hanamaki flinched away, terrified. Kaneo had swam up silently and startled Hanamaki so badly, that he ended up splashing water everywhere.

“Ugh! Don’t do that!” Hanamaki yelped, tackling Kaneo once he gathered his wits. Heisuke was there in a second, pulling Hanamaki off of Kaneo by his hair.

“Just explain the game,” Heisuke demanded, ignoring Hanamaki’s desperate pleas to be let go of.

“Okay, okay!” Hanamaki agreed, his voice still a high pitched squeak. “Basically, someone stands on the edge of the pool and looks away from the water, like... at the fence or the trees or something,” Hanamaki said, gesturing. “And then everyone else lines up along the wall behind them and picks a color.”

“And then, and then?” Kaneo asked excitedly.

Hanamaki made a face. “Geez, have you guys really not played this before? Matsukawa and I play this _all of the time_ ,” he said, throwing his arm around Matsukawa, who looked as bored as he usually did. “But right, whoever is _it_ and is standing outside the pool has to list colors, and if your color gets called, you have to try to swim across the pool and reach the other side. So you have to swim really quiet, otherwise whoever’s it will turn around and try to catch you.”

“So it’s like a race,” Iwaizumi said.

“A race with an ambiguous start,” Matsukawa confirmed, waggling his fingers ‘ambiguously’ in Iwaizumi’s face. Iwaizumi ducked under the water to avoid Matsukawa and swam over to the edge of the pool.

“Not it,” he called, touching the side of the wall.

“Not it!” Kaneo echoed back, chasing him.

“I’ll be it,” Heisuke ground out, unreasonably pissed off for someone who was supposed to be having fun. He climbed out of the pool, while Hanamaki and Matsukawa swam to flank Iwaizumi.

“Having fun yet, Iwaizumi?” Hanamaki asked.

Iwaizumi frowned. “Why?”

Hanamaki regarded him thoughtfully. “Just checking up on you,” he replied, before leaning over the pool edge to yell at Heisuke. He rested his chin on his forearms. “Now don’t turn around, Heisuke! You can only look if you think you hear one of us swimming!”

“Whatever. Do you guys all have a color picked out?” Heisuke asked. He was met with four varying noises of affirmation. “Cool. Blue.” Heisuke whipped around, but no one had moved. He grunted and faced the fence again. “Red.”

Matsukawa silently slipped under the water. He kicked off of the wall and silently glided halfway across the pool. Heisuke didn’t hear him until he resurfaced.

“Fuck,” Heisuke grunted as he turned around. He dived after Matsukawa, but his efforts were useless. By the time Heisuke made it to the other side of the pool, Matsukawa was sitting up on the edge, waiting for him. “Ugh, now what!” Heisuke yelled to Hanamaki.

“Now you’re _it_ again, and Matsukawa gets to stay over there because he beat you!” Hanamaki shouted back.

“So I have to beat all of you to win? That’s not fair!” Heisuke shouted as he swam back to the other side of the pool.

Hanamaki waited until Heisuke was closer to speak. “No, you only have to beat one of us to win. Like... the game starts over if you catch someone or we all make it to the other side,” he said, gesturing to make himself clear.

“I think you’re just making shit up as you go along,” Heisuke said with an eye roll, but he climbed out of the pool anyway. “Green... Black... White....” No one moved, and Heisuke didn’t turn around. “Yellow.”

Kaneo squeaked and bounced off the wall.

Heisuke instantly spun around. He almost jumped _on top_ of Kaneo to catch him, and Kaneo squealed and giggled when Heisuke caught his ankle and held it up in the air victoriously. “Heisuke, let go!” he yelped.

“Sure,” Heisuke said. He let Kaneo’s foot go, only to grab his shoulders and dunk him underwater.

“Ugh, guys, that isn’t funny!” Iwaizumi complained when Matsukawa and Hanamaki started snickering. He swam over to his wrestling friends, and pulled Kaneo out of the water with one arm, holding Heisuke off with the other. “Kaneo you’re _it_ , so get out of the pool,” he demanded. “Heisuke, think of a color and do what you’re supposed to be doing.”

“Iwaizumi, are you all right?” Kaneo asked, crinkling his freckled nose.

Iwaizumi frowned and let him go. “Yeah, why?” He clenched and unclenched his fingers when he realized how tightly he had been gripping Kaneo.

“You just seem tense lately,” Kaneo said. He was peering up at him with wide eyes –like a cute, kid brother type- and Iwaizumi shrunk under his stare.

“You know, Hanamaki was also checking up on me earlier. Am I really that off?” he asked.

Everyone started talking at once, but their answer was clear: _Yes._ Iwaizumi put his hands over his ears. “Okay, okay, I get it, I get it,” he said, trying to shut everyone up. “Sorry, guys, I don’t really know what’s gotten into me. I guess I’m just stressed.”

“Maybe you should be more like Motomu,” Matsukawa suggested. Motomu waved at Iwaizumi without ever looking up from his book. He had practically melted into his lawn chair, and Iwaizumi’s frown deepened.

“Yeah, I don’t think lying around would be good for me. I think Colors is fine, it’ll probably help get my mind of things.”

“You wanna talk about it?” Hanamaki asked.

Iwaizumi winced. “Not really. Let’s just keep playing... Kaneo, you’re up,” he said, much more kindly than before.

“M’kay!” Kaneo agreed.

Iwaizumi lingered by the side of the wall, waiting for Kaeno to call out the color purple so he could swim, but his head wasn’t in it. He had said he didn’t know why he was stressed, and he hadn’t been lying. He had made friends, he was doing well in his classes, volleyball was going fine, his spike was improving, and Oikawa...

Well, Oikawa was obviously doing well. Iwaizumi had been worried about him being alone, but clearly, he was more popular than Iwaizumi had thought. He still didn’t fit in well on the team, and gay rumors still swirled around him and Iwaizumi, but girls...

Girls obviously liked him.

Good for Oikawa, really. He probably needed the attention of a girlfriend; he hadn’t gotten enough love or care growing up. At the very least, it probably helped his confidence to have so many girls after him. Iwaizumi should be happy that Oikawa was so attended to. Iwaizumi should be happy about a lot of things.

But honestly, he couldn’t stop thinking about Oikawa in the courtyard alone with that girl... tucking her hair behind her ear...

“Purple!” Kaneo yelled, and Iwaizumi startled out of his thoughts. He splashed as he kicked off from the wall, and his shoulders burned as he tried to swim faster than Kaneo could. Fingertips brushed his ankle. “Got you!” Kaneo yelped.

Iwaizumi stopped swimming and stood up in the shallow end. “You did,” he said, voice edgy.

* * *

Iwaizumi pressed his hands to the window like a little kid. The train felt like it was moving through tar, it was going so much  _slower_ than usual. That, or Iwaizumi was just so excited that every moment felt like  _ages_ .

Oikawa arched an eyebrow at him, looking up from his phone for the first time during their train ride. “How do you have any energy left to be _this_ excited? You used to get out of breath after running like... two laps around the gym. Now you’re bouncing in your seat after the most excruciating practice of my _life._ ”

“It wasn’t that bad,” Iwaizumi said, even though it definitely, _definitely_ was. Coach Mizoguchi had them do an unreasonable amount of squat jumps, followed by lunges, fire hydrants, and crying. Iwaizumi knew it was important to never skip leg day, but he was in _pain._ His leg muscles felt like jelly, and they threatened to give out on him with every step.

But today was a big day.

Today was the day that Iwaizumi met Oikawa’s _grandma_ , and nothing could bring him down. He would get to see Oikawa’s apartment, and eat Oikawa’s snacks, and hang out in Oikawa’s room. Iwaizumi hadn’t even seen the inside of Oikawa’s house in _elementary school._ This was a first for him.

“It was _awful_ ,” Oikawa disagreed. He thrust a leg towards Iwaizumi. “Fix it, Iwa-chan.”

Iwaizumi turned around to sit normally in his seat, Oikawa’s leg falling into his lap. He patted his shin a few times. “There, there.” Oikawa made a dissatisfied noise, and Iwaizumi humored him by rubbing his calf until the train pulled into Oikawa’s stop. “Here we are!” he said, jumping up so fast, he nearly tripped over Oikawa’s leg.

Oikawa fixed his already perfect hair and stood up. He regarded Iwaizumi carefully as they walked. “Hey,” he said after a moment, looking sheepish instead of disinterested and annoyed like he usually did when they were in public. “Try not to be too freaked out when you meet my gram, okay? I don’t want you to, like... stress her out.”

Iwaizumi blinked. A smirk slid up his face. “Your _gram?_ ” he asked.

Oikawa looked startled, like he hadn’t meant to let the nickname slip. He blushed so fiercely, even the tips of his ears turned red. “Shhh!” he squeaked, putting a hand over Iwaizumi’s mouth. “I call her Gram. It’s no big deal,” he hissed.

Iwaizumi moved his hand away. “You’re right, it’s not,” he promised. _It was just cute._ “I won’t tell anyone.”

When they reached Oikawa’s apartment complex, Iwaizumi was once again amazed by how nice it was. He hoped that the inside of Oikawa’s unit was just as cute as his balcony. Maybe his grandma liked seashells, and she had them everywhere inside. Or maybe she was the doily kind of grandma, and Oikawa’s apartment was all pastel colors and floral prints.

Oikawa lead him to a covered outdoor staircase. He babbled as they climbed the steps. “Okay, so like... My house isn’t like your house. Or, I mean, it is, but it’s like... Gram didn’t really decorate with a teenage boy in mind, so it’s a little girly, and, I mean... It’s _nice_ , it’s just not nice like how your house is because your mom has all those really cool leather couches, and like... You have your glass coffee table, and it’s all modern and awesome, and my place is sort of-“ Oikawa cut himself of. He looked uncomfortable.

They had reached the front door to his apartment, and Iwaizumi peeked around the tiny square of outdoor space. There was a flowering hibiscus bush in one corner and planters filled with poppies on the limited wall space. There was a welcome home sign on the door written in kanji.

Iwaizumi’s heart swelled. It was so _nice._

He smiled, until he caught sight of Oikawa still wavering by the door. His expression softened. “Hey, you’re like... freaking out.”

Oikawa snorted. “Am not.”

“Are too,” Iwaizumi argued. He looked around again, trying to commit the little entryway to memory. “Have you ever had anyone over before?” he asked. Oikawa didn’t answer, but he didn’t have to. His blush said it all. Iwaizumi felt something fond blossom through his chest. He was elated to be the first one Oikawa trusted enough to come over, even if it was only because Iwaizumi had been there for him in elementary school. “Well, that’s silly. Your house is lovely.”

“You haven’t even seen it,” Oikawa complained, kicking at his seahorse welcome mat.

Iwaizumi shrugged. “Your grandma clearly likes decorating,” he said, gesturing to all the little details by the front door. “And it seems like she takes care of you pretty well. I’m sure it’s great.”

Oikawa opened his mouth –probably to argue or stall a little longer- but before he could say anything else, the front door creaked open. Iwaizumi rose up onto his tiptoes when Oikawa’s grandmother stepped outside. “Tooru!” she exclaimed. “You weren’t lying, you do have friends!”

“Gram! Of course I do!”

His grandma ignored Oikawa entirely. Instead, her eyes fixed onto Iwaizumi, and she extended her hands out towards him. “You must be Iwaizumi Hajime,” she said as Iwaizumi let her take his hands. “It’s so good to meet you.”

“It’s good to meet you, too. Oikawa doesn’t share much about his home life,” Iwaizumi said.

“He doesn’t share much about his school life with me,” his grandma said thoughtfully. Her eyes twinkled conspiringly. “Maybe we can trade secrets.”

“Gram!” Oikawa shouted again, indignant as ever. Iwaizumi only snickered behind his hand. He already liked Oikawa’s grandma. She was sweet, and she didn’t let Oikawa take himself too seriously.

She didn’t look anything like Iwaizumi thought she would. In his mind, he had pictured someone small and frail, but Oikawa’s grandma was of average height and she held herself well. She seemed healthy. Iwaizumi couldn’t help but feel relieved; Oikawa would have his grandma around for a long time.

“Let’s go inside,” Oikawa’s grandma said, dropping Iwaizumi’s hands. “There’s tea on the stove, and I baked some cookies earlier.”

She started into the house, and Oikawa squirmed. “Um... Gram, I really thought that you could just meet Hajime and then he would be on his way. I know he has lots of homework-“

“Actually, I would love to stay for tea and cookies,” Iwaizumi countered. “I’m sure I will have plenty of time to finish my schoolwork if I stay for a little.”

Oikawa’s grandmother clapped her hands together. “Wonderful! Follow me,” she said.

Iwaizumi stepped into the house and kicked off his shoes. Oikawa gaped at him, betrayed, but Iwaizumi only smirked in response. He stepped across the threshold of Oikawa’s apartment, laughing when Oikawa flailed to chase after him.

There was a tiny little kitchen to the left upon walking in and a coatrack to the right. After the kitchen, the space opened up into a combined living and dining room. There were sliding glass windows and a fireplace on the back wall. Off to the side, there was a little inlet with three doors. Iwaizumi assumed that one was the bathroom and the other two were bedrooms.

The whole house smelled flowery and clean.

“I told you it wasn’t like your house,” Oikawa muttered, sitting at the table while his grandma gathered things in the kitchen. Iwaizumi blinked before pulling up a chair.

“So?”

“So?!” Oikawa hissed. He pointed at the yellow floral couch, the pink lacy curtains, and the ruffled throw pillows covering every available surface. “It’s... I dunno...”

“It’s _great_ ,” Iwaizumi promised. It really _was_ great. There were picture frames everywhere, each filled with a smiling picture of Oikawa (some with missing teeth). There were bouquets of fresh and fake flowers, and little throw blankets everywhere. It looked cozy and lived in. Iwaizumi was sure it was a wonderful place to grow up. “You’re being rude, your gram obviously worked hard putting this place together. It’s _nice_ ,” he promised.

Oikawa faltered. “I mean- Well, of _course_ she did, but- Look, I just don’t want you to make fun of me, okay?”

Iwaizumi smacked Oikawa on the back of the head. “I’m not like that,” he said. “I wouldn’t make fun of you for anything, especially not something as stupid as that. And anyway, you don’t have anything to be embarrassed about. If you’re happy, I’m happy.”

“Okay, okay, I’m happy, I’m happy,” Oikawa said, pouting. He rubbed the spot where Iwaizumi hit him. He straightened, however, when his grandmother came to join them with a pot of tea and a plate of cookies.

“There,” she said, putting them down on the table. “Oikawa, why don’t you pour, while I talk to Hajime?”

Iwaizumi’s eyes flickered to Oikawa. _You call me Hajime, huh?_ “What would you like to know, Obasan?” he asked, politely sipping his tea once Oikawa had served him.

“Everything! I’ve never met one of Tooru’s friends before. He talks about you so much-“ Oikawa bristled. “-But I’m curious to hear from you. You were friends with Tooru in elementary school, right?”

“Right,” Iwaizumi answered. “He moved into the neighborhood at the start of second grade, and we’d always end up playing in the creek by our houses at the same time. I’m not sure when _exactly_ we became friends? But I remember being really impressed when Tooru beat me in a tree climbing race.”

“Wait,” Oikawa said, dropping his cranky demeanor for a moment. “You wanted to be friends with me because I’m a fast _tree climber?_ ”

Iwaizumi took a bite of a cookie. “That amongst other things,” he said vaguely, just to ruffle Oikawa’s feathers.

His grandmother made a pleased sound and took a sip from her teacup. “And you’re the one who informed your teacher about the neglect?” she asked.

Iwaizumi froze. He shifted in his seat, pulling at the collar of his school uniform. The room suddenly felt hot. “Yes,” he answered before steeling himself. He set his expression into something more confident. “I mean, yes. I did.”

Oikawa’s grandmother met his gaze. “Well, thank you,” she said, so genuine that it almost knocked the air out of Iwaizumi’s chest. The air was heavy for a moment, but Oikawa’s grandma was quick to break the tension. “I don’t know what I would do with out my cutie-patootie Tooru here to water my flowers and keep me company,” she cooed, reaching over to pinch Oikawa’s cheek.

Oikawa wailed, upset, but the twinkle in his eye said he was anything but annoyed. “Gram, you said you wouldn’t embarrass me! Knock it off!”

“Hey, just relax, _cutie-patootie_ ,” Iwaizumi snickered. He shared a smirk with Oikawa’s grandma. He definitely liked this lady.

They talked for the better part of an hour, both trading secrets about Oikawa and laughing at his expense. Oikawa complained the entire time, his arms crossed over his chest, but something told Iwaizumi that he wasn’t _actually_ upset. In fact, he seemed... _excited_ that they were both getting along so well.

“It was lovely meeting you, Hajime,” Oikawa’s grandmother said when it was time for Iwaizumi to leave.

“It was lovely meeting _you_ , Obasan,” Iwaizumi corrected. “You’ll have to give me that snicker doodle recipe you were telling me about, I’m sure my dad would love to try it out.”

“Oh, love, just call me Gram,” she said, waving away Iwaizumi’s formal honorific. “And will do! I’ll send it with Tooru in his backpack tomorrow.”

Oikawa sniffed, looking off to the side. “I’m not a kid,” he complained. “You don’t have to put it in my backpack like it’s a note for my teacher.” For as cool and cocky as Oikawa could be, his grandma certainly knew how to ruin it by pinching his cheek. Oikawa whined, but didn’t make an effort to move away from her.

Iwaizumi laughed. “See you tomorrow, Oikawa,” he said. But before he could go, Oikawa grabbed his arm.

“Wait, wait, wait. Gram, will you give us some privacy? I just- Okay, there we go,” he said as his grandmother slipped wordlessly back into the house. He took a deep breath and fixed his eyes on Iwaizumi. “You won’t tell anyone about today, right?” he asked.

Iwaizumi pressed his lips together, realizing how painfully insecure Oikawa was. “There’s nothing to tell,” he promised. “And even if there was, I would keep it to myself,” he promised.

Oikawa took another deep breath. “Okay,” he agreed. “Okay... See you tomorrow, I guess.”

“See you tomorrow,” Iwaizumi agreed. He turned to leave again, and –again- Oikawa stopped him. But this time, instead of grabbing his arm, his arms wrapped around Iwaizumi’s chest.

Iwaizumi choked as Oikawa pulled him into the tightest hug imaginable. He felt the wind knock out of his lungs, and as unpleasant as the feeling was, he was more focused on Oikawa’s nose buried into his hair. It took him a minute, but after a moment, he moved his arms to wrap over Oikawa’s.

“What-“

“Sorry!” Oikawa yelped, letting go of Iwaizumi before he could ask any questions. Iwaizumi turned around, but by the time he was facing Oikawa, the other boy had already thrown himself back into his apartment. The door slammed closed behind him, and Iwaizumi put a hand to his forehead. A surprised smile took over his expression.

He hadn’t realized how much he missed Oikawa’s hugs until he got one.

* * *

Iwaizumi felt like he was soaring.

“Wow, that was ten laps already? I could have sworn we were only running for a minute,” Iwaizumi said, jogging in place while his teammates collapsed around him.

They had been running circuits all morning. Between every set of squats, and pushups, and burpees, they had to do ten laps around the gym. Everyone else was exhausted, but Iwaizumi was too happy to feel tired. It was a stark contrast to the tight, itchy feeling he had in his throat lately. Ever since he had gone to Oikawa’s house, the heaviness surrounding his heart had disappeared.

Every time he thought about Oikawa latching onto him, every time he remembered Oikawa pulling him forcibly to his chest, Iwaizumi felt like smiling. It was enough to get him through any workout.

“Shut. The fuck. _Up_ ,” Matsukawa said. He clawed at Iwaizumi’s shorts, trying to get him to join him on the ground. “Get down here and die with the rest of us.”

“Iwaizumi, why do I feel like you’re the only one who is _actually_ getting stronger from all of this conditioning?” Hanamaki panted. He tried to roll over and rest his head on Matsukawa’s thigh, but Matsukawa shook him off.

Iwaizumi shrugged. “It’s all about your mental game,” Iwaizumi replied, glancing over to Oikawa. “Maybe your head just isn’t in the right place.”

“Is the right place up Oikawa’s butt?” Hanamaki asked.

Iwaizumi paled and realized he was staring again. “Um... No?”

“Is that a question?”

“I’m walking away now,” Iwaizumi decided. He took a step to head towards the coaches and maybe ask about what he should be working on in his free time, but Hanamaki grabbed for his ankle. Iwaizumi swore when he almost tripped. “What?” he asked, annoyed.

“Don’t walk away, I was just wondering if you guys were on good terms or not,” Hanamaki said. For once, he didn’t seem like he was trying to be nosey. Instead, he seemed genuinely interested for Iwaizumi’s sake.

“Yeah, we’re good,” Iwaizumi said. He couldn’t help it; he smiled. “We’re really good. He’s the best. Actually, he’s coming over today. He’s the only one who can tolerate my dad talking about his different spatula techniques, so my dad’s been begging me to invite him over.”

“Sounds like he fits right in at the Iwaizumi household,” Matsukawa said dryly.

Iwaizumi grinned. “Yeah, I guess,” he replied happily. Oikawa had him forgetting to be angry. He looked back over to where Oikawa was resting with some second years against the wall. Oikawa seemed to catch his eye and beamed at him.

“Yahoo! Iwa-chan!” he shouted. He threw up a peace sign.

Iwaizumi gave a tiny wave in response, feeling Hanamaki and Matsukawa’s eyes on him. His neck heated up. But even if he felt embarrassed, nothing could break his good mood.

* * *

“Oikawa, you’re missing all the jump scares,” Kaneo complained, sticking his feet up into Oikawa’s lap and poking at Oikawa’s cellphone blindly with his toes.

Everyone was crammed into Motomu’s family room. He had the biggest couch, so all of their movie nights were usually at his house, even if it was unclear as to whether or not he wanted them all there. This was the first one Oikawa had been invited to, and Iwaizumi didn’t blame him for spending all of his time on his phone. He knew Oikawa didn’t like horror movies, but Heisuke had insisted that they watch something scary.

Kaneo kicked at Oikawa’s phone a little harder when he didn’t look up. “Who are you texting anyway?”

“My girlfriend,” Oikawa replied.

Iwaizumi felt like someone punched him in the stomach. He looked at Oikawa, horrified, while Kaneo stared up at him incredulously. “You have a girlfriend?! Since when?!” Kaneo yelped.

“Since yesterday. She’s this girl from Class 5, Aya,” Oikawa answered, his eyes never leaving his phone.

Iwaizumi’s blood ran cold. “You’re dating _Aya_ ,” he repeated, his mind spinning. _Aya?_ She was _awful_. She was always sticking her nose into Oikawa’s business, and trying to pry information out of anyone close to him. She was invasive.

Iwaizumi felt sick when he realized he was no better.

“Yeah. You know, the one with the light brown hair who’s always at all of our practices?” Oikawa asked distractedly. It was almost like he _couldn’t_ look at Iwaizumi, when Iwaizumi would give anything for him to just look up.

“I know her,” Iwaizumi said, his voice wavering. He stood up abruptly. “I’m going to go get popcorn. Anyone else want some?” he asked, trying not to be too obvious. He didn’t know what he was trying to cover up, just that he needed to get out of this suffocating room.

No one answered. They were all too engrossed in the film to look away, and Iwaizumi was thankful for it. He left quietly for the kitchen.

“Hey, you know what? I’m going to go help him,” he heard Hanamaki say behind him.

“Me, too,” Matsukawa tacked on.

They both cornered Iwaizumi in the kitchen a second later. Iwaizumi pointedly ignored them as he grabbed the popcorn from the pantry, and stuck it in the microwave. Hanamaki was the one to break the awkward silence. “Hey... Are you okay?”

“I’m fine,” Iwaizumi said, staring into the microwave so they couldn’t see his flaming cheeks.

Matsukawa cleared his throat. “Um... are you sure?”

“Yep.” Iwaizumi’s voice was clipped. He didn’t know why he was lying. But he also didn’t know why his heart felt like it was getting crushed by a giant fist or why he couldn’t be in the same room as Oikawa without choking or crying. He had been so happy lately. What _happened?_

“Okay, well...” Hanamaki looked uncomfortable, like he wanted to say something but the words were stuck in his throat. “Well, if you need anything, just tell us, okay?”

“Okay,” Iwaizumi said. Hanamaki started pushing Matsukawa out of the room, and Iwaizumi panicked. “Wait! Actually... I’m not feeling well. I think I’m going to head back to my place.”

“Do you want one of us to walk with you?” Matsukawa asked.

“No,” Iwaizumi said quickly. “I just...” When he spoke, his voice was watery. “I want to go home.”

“Okay, no problem,” Hanamaki promised. “We’ll see you at practice tomorrow, okay? Text us if you need anything.”

“Okay,” Iwaizumi said. Hanamaki and Matsukawa waved to him, and Iwaizumi lingered by the microwave. It beeped when his popcorn was done. “I’m taking this with me,” he sniffled to himself, hissing when the bag burned his fingers. He stuffed his feet into his sneakers and munched on popcorn on his way too the train station, trying not to cry.

* * *

Iwaizumi tried to copy down notes as his teacher lectured, but honestly, his head was elsewhere.

The class had been buzzing when he walked into the room. Everyone was talking about Oikawa finally dating someone, and with the girl in question sitting in the front of the class, everyone seemed especially excited to talk about the school’s new ‘it’ couple.

Iwaizumi knew that as soon as their teacher stopped lecturing, everyone would be back to talking about Aya and Oikawa. He didn’t know if he could take it. For some reason, the very thought of Oikawa dating someone –dating _Aya_ of all people- left him feeling hollow.

Eventually, their teacher stopped talking and passed out worksheets. Iwaizumi felt anxious as chatter filled the classroom again. He closed his eyes.

“Aya, tell us what it’s like dating Oikawa!”

Iwaizumi hunched down in his seat.

Aya sounded animated as she spoke. “You wouldn’t even believe it, he’s _such_ a gentleman. He offers to carry my books after class, and he always gives me a pear at lunch. He’s so sweet!” she said. Iwaizumi could hear how excited he was.

He curled in on himself a little further. He knew that feeling. He knew how exciting it was to have Oikawa pay attention to you. His every glance felt so rewarding. He didn’t even _trust_ Iwaizumi –or he had said as much, anyway- so he couldn’t imagine what it must feel like to have Oikawa confide in him, much less offer to hold his books after class or give him fruit at lunch. Aya must feel so special.

Iwaizumi groaned to himself and tried to focus on his worksheet, but it was useless. How was he supposed to focus when Aya was bragging about holding Oikawa’s hand?

* * *

At lunch, Iwaizumi found himself surrounded by Matsukawa, Hanamaki, and surprisingly Oikawa. Iwaizumi wanted to ask why Oikawa wasn’t with  _Aya_ , but he didn’t dare. He was happy Oikawa was hanging out with them instead, especially because Iwaizumi really wanted Oikawa to have  _real_ friends instead of just people who liked him because he was popular.

But every time Iwaizumi tried to speak, his words got stuck in his throat. So instead of talking and trying to make Oikawa feel welcome, Iwaizumi kept his eyes locked on his rice and salmon and tried to go as unnoticed as possible.

“Dude, the second Heisuke picked out a horror movie, I knew everyone was going to die. But I didn’t expect for _everyone_ to _actually_ die. I thought that maybe the hot girl would make it out alive, or maybe the buff guy, but literally everyone – _everyone-_ got their throats sliced open,” Matsukawa said, oblivious to the tension in the room.

“Don’t spoil the movie for Iwaizumi,” Oikawa said. “He didn’t see the ending.”

Iwaizumi stabbed at a carrot. Oikawa’s words were weighted, and he didn’t understand why. Yes, Iwaizumi had abandoned him with his friends, but Oikawa didn’t seem mad at him. If anything, he seemed just as nervous as Iwaizumi was. “It’s fine. I wasn’t really watching it anyway.”

Matsukawa grunted around a piece of Hanamaki’s chicken katsu. “Hey, yeah. What happened the other night? Were you okay? You seemed really upset,” Matsukawa said.

Iwaizumi pulled his knees underneath his chin. “I was okay. I just didn’t feel well,” he said into his kneecaps.

Oikawa seemed worried. He reached a hand out towards Iwaizumi. “Well, are you feeling okay now? You kind of look-“

“He’s fine,” Hanamaki cut in, physically putting himself between Iwaizumi and Oikawa before Oikawa could touch him. Iwaizumi felt his throat clench closed as Oikawa lowered his hand away, eyes wide. Oikawa used to latch onto him no matter what; his bony elbows and knees would poke at Iwaizumi so it felt like he was holding a bag of sticks. It had been so uncomfortable.

But Iwaizumi missed it.

“Actually, I think I need some air,” Iwaizumi admitted, standing up abruptly from the table. Hanamaki looked at him, startled, but Iwaizumi ignored him.

He left the classroom without any kind of plan. Without meaning to, he ended up heading towards the bathroom, and once he was there, he locked himself up in a stall.

He leaned against the wall.

Suddenly, Iwaizumi’s lungs felt tight, and his heart felt like there was something living inside of it, trying to claw its way out. Tears sprung up in his eyes. He didn’t want to have lunch with Oikawa, but he didn’t want Oikawa to have lunch with Aya, either. He didn’t _ever_ want Oikawa to be with Aya.

Iwaizumi hid his face in his hands as a sob slipped past his guard. He didn’t even know why he was _crying._

“Iwaizumi? Iwaizumi, are you in here?”

_Fuck_.

Iwaizumi recognized Hanamaki’s voice. He heard his footsteps passing by the stalls nearing his, and once he was close enough, he ripped open his door and pulled Hanamaki into the stall with him. Hanamaki looked terrified for a second, but once he recognized Iwaizumi and noticed the tear tracks on his cheeks, his expression softened. “So this is what you and Oikawa were doing in that stall,” he teased. “Crying, huh?”

Iwaizumi didn’t even care that Hanamaki was making fun of him. He practically threw himself at his friend, his arms locking around him in a tight hug. Hanamaki made a choking noise but wrapped his arms around Iwaizumi anyway.

“You’re okay,” Hanamaki promised. “I know how it feels to... Well, you know. But you’re okay. You’re okay.”

“But I _don’t_ know,” Iwaizumi sobbed, not caring about how loud he was being. “I don’t know why I’m being like this,” he stammered.

Hanamaki tensed. When Iwaizumi left the question hanging in the air, he pulled back a bit. His eyebrows furrowed together. “Are... Are you sure you don’t know?” he asked. “Because you’re kind of transparent.”

“About _what?_ ” Iwaizumi asked, desperate for answers. He’d been feeling torn up and stomped on ever since Oikawa walked in those _stupid_ gym doors, and he didn’t know _why_.

Hanamaki frowned. “About being in love with Oikawa.”

Iwaizumi stilled. “What?”

“About being in love with Oikawa,” Hanamaki repeated. When Iwaizumi didn’t say anything, he stammered on. “I mean, you stare at him all the time, and you’re always hovering around him and like... gravitating towards him. And you make such a huge effort to take care of him, it just seems like... like maybe you’re in love with your best friend, too.”

“Too?” Iwaizumi choked, not ready to process the rest of what Hanamaki was telling him.

Hanamaki blushed and looked towards the corner of the stall. “Mattsun... means a lot to me,” he muttered.

The sound of the door to the bathroom opening shut them both up. They kept quiet, hardly breathing as someone came in, used the urinal, and left without washing their hands. Iwaizumi took in a sharp inhale of breath when they were finally gone.

“I don’t know about what Oikawa means to me. But I’m sorry about Matsukawa,” he said, wiping at his cheeks. He wasn’t crying anymore, but he didn’t feel any better. If anything, he was more confused than before.

Hanamaki smiled at him weakly and shrugged. “Don’t be. I’m used to it.”

Iwaizumi scrubbed his nose on the back of his hand. His whole body felt heavy from crying. There was a headache forming at the base of his head, and honestly, maybe he really _didn’t_ feel well. Iwaizumi wasn’t the type to cry, especially not in school bathrooms on friends’ shoulders. “Well, I’m not,” he said. “And I don’t want to be.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1) I felt like the best way to start this chapter after such a long break was awkward stretching? I hope you all feel the same.
> 
> 2) Oikawa calls his grandmother “gram” in English, but in Japanese he might call her “Oba” or “Baachan.” I don’t really know what I like more!
> 
> 3) Also I am so sorry for this long wait, I am the worst. I started college again, and so did my sister, and I went on like 6 vacations, and worked at this camp without wifi or my computer so AH. But I am back with hopefully more regular updates.


	5. An Eye-Opening

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I have a very snuggly -but very smelly- puppy trying to lick my hands as I publish this. (I have a 9 pound cavapoo named Adeline, but she thinks she's a cat. She also thinks she can sit on my keyboard.)
> 
> But okay, so I have created some visual aids for this chapter. I invented all these math problems and volleyball drills, so I wanted someone to at least have a chance to see them. 
> 
> They're just photos of some drawings and math problems, but if they'll help the reading experience, then I figured I should post them! [ Click here!](http://thecheekybrunette.tumblr.com/post/151446829414/causally-posting-some-visual-aids-for-the-next)

Neglect 5

Iwaizumi gritted his teeth together. His hands tightened around his textbook. Oikawa, meanwhile, seemed blissfully unaware of Iwaizumi’s growing frustration. He absently drummed his pencil on the table, staring into space.

_Tap._

_Tap._

_Tap._

_Tap._

“Oi, Shittykawa,” Iwaizumi said, talking over the incessant tapping. “Would you mind?”

“What?” Oikawa asked. His eyes were wide with surprise, like he hadn’t expected Iwaizumi to look up from his textbook. To be fair, Iwaizumi was generally a pretty focused student. While he didn’t have the best grades in his class, he was driven, and he liked to get his work done quietly and efficiently.

But Oikawa was being too irritating to ignore.

“The pencil,” Iwaizumi clarified. “Cut it out.”

Oikawa seemed startled by his own tapping. “Oh, sorry,” he apologized, his shoulders slumping. It was enough to make Iwaizumi give up on studying. He closed his book and leaned forward, getting ready to listen.

“Hey, are you okay? You’ve been on the same page since we got home.”

Oikawa had followed Iwaizumi back to his house that afternoon. At first, Iwaizumi had been a little reluctant. He had felt raw around Oikawa lately, like he was two seconds away from having another breakdown in the bathroom, and he wasn’t sure it was a good idea to be alone with him after what Hanamaki said.

However, Iwaizumi had never been good at saying no. And he had meant it when he had told Oikawa that he could come over anytime, so he let Oikawa follow him home on the heels of his sneakers.

If Iwaizumi was being honest, he liked how clingy Oikawa had been lately. After all, any time he spent with Iwaizumi was time he wasn’t spending with Aya, and that satisfied Iwaizumi in ways he was too embarrassed to admit out loud. Studying with Oikawa at his kitchen table wasn’t exactly intimate, but even if their relationship wasn’t growing, Oikawa’s relationship with Aya wasn’t growing either.

Oikawa, meanwhile, was quite obviously putting his mask in place. He sat up straighter; he smiled. He fixed his hair into place. “Of course, I’m okay,” he answered.

Iwaizumi blinked.

Oikawa deflated. “Okay, fine,” he said, caving easily. “I don’t get this at all. I think maybe I may have a Greek translation of this textbook because, honestly, none of this makes any sense.”

Iwaizumi huffed and grabbed Oikawa’s textbook. He skimmed over the chapter. “Well, it’s definitely in Japanese,” he said. “This is history stuff. What’s so confusing?”

Oikawa didn’t say anything, just shuffled his feet together. Iwaizumi glared down at the page. Oikawa always seemed to get caught up on little things when they studied together. It took him ages to wrap his head around ideas: even simple ones like what years the Edo period encompassed. Iwaizumi was concerned, but he didn’t know how to bring it up without embarrassing Oikawa.

For all of Oikawa’s bravado, it was exceptionally easy to hurt his feelings. The way he was sitting now –with his shoulders curled in and his eyes on the floor- made Iwaizumi feel like maybe he shouldn’t be as gruff as usual.

“Oikawa, are you bad at reading or something?” he asked and winced. That had been blunt.

Oikawa shrugged. He was quiet for a moment, but he soon groaned and threw himself over his notes. He buried face into the tabletop. “I’m not bad, I’m just slow!” he lamented.

Iwaizumi put the history textbook down. “Sure,” he agreed. “Slow.”

“Don’t make fun of me, Iwa-chan, it’s no big deal!”

“I’m _not_ ,” Iwaizumi said, exasperated. He kept saying the wrong thing. He wanted Oikawa to trust him, not always assume that he was teasing him. He hated having to think so carefully about his words before he spoke. “It’s okay if you’re slow. Are you getting help for it?”

Oikawa sat up. He crossed his arms over his chest defensively. His face was bright red as he slunk down in his chair. “No.”

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes. “Well, that’s probably a mistake.”

“You sound like my grandma.”

“Your grandma is a smart lady,” Iwaizumi said, gripping the bottom of his chair with white knuckles. He willed away his frustration.

Oikawa looked obstinate. His nose was turned up arrogantly, despite the blush on his cheeks. Iwaizumi had no idea how to deal with him when he was like this other than to concede.

It scared him how easily he gave into Oikawa.

“Look, how can _I_ help you?” Iwaizumi asked. “Do you want me to read out loud to you? Are you a good listener?”

Oikawa turned to the side. Iwaizumi found his eyes slipping over the bridge of his nose. Oikawa’s profile was capturing, even when his expression was as snotty and stubborn as it was now. “I _guess_ ,” Oikawa said.

Iwaizumi snorted. “You _guess?_ ”

“I guess,” Oikawa repeated. “Maybe you could read, and I could like... take notes or something. Whatever.”

“Whatever,” Iwaizumi repeated, a smirk on his face. He opened the textbook and started reading in spite of Oikawa’s bad attitude. As he flipped pages, Oikawa seemed to get more and more invested. His note scribbling grew faster and he nodded along with what Iwaizumi was saying as if he understood.

Iwaizumi found himself reading with a smile. Oikawa had said he didn’t trust him, but he was letting him read to him, and that was something. He was sure that Oikawa wouldn’t admit his difficulties with reading to anyone else on the team.

Eventually, Iwaizumi’s throat grew dry and Oikawa had to go home to eat with his grandmother. He poured Iwaizumi a glass of water before he left. “You sound hoarse,” he said, presenting the glass with a flourish.

Iwaizumi took the cup and struggled to keep down a blush. “Yeah, I was,” he admitted. “See you tomorrow?”

“I’m not planning on ditching practice, if that’s what you mean,” Oikawa said, collecting his things to go home. He stuffed a pencil behind his ear.

 _Cute_.

Oikawa tilted his head challengingly at Iwaizumi. “I bet you a popsicle that I’ll be able to do more pushups than you during morning practice,” he said. Iwaizumi shook his head, feeling a little dazed.

“As if,” he said slowly. “I could beat you in my sleep.”

“We’ll see about that,” Oikawa said, throwing his bag over his shoulder. He checked his watch. “Ah, okay, I’m going to miss my train. See you later, Iwa-chan!” He waved goodbye with one of his dizzying smiles.

Iwaizumi lifted a hand to wave back at him. He stayed slightly frozen as Oikawa left, and his mom caught him sitting at the kitchen table, unmoving. She smirked. “You all right, kid?” she asked.

Iwaizumi startled. “Ah, yes.”

“Good,” his mom replied. “That means you can help make dinner.”

Iwaizumi groaned, but he got up to help his mom anyway. As he cut carrots, he thought about how genuine Oikawa had been while he was taking notes and asking Iwaizumi to repeat paragraphs. For once, he had seemed like a real person, and Iwaizumi couldn’t stop thinking about it.

* * *

“I mean, it’s fine, I guess. But sometimes our relationship doesn’t seem all that... I don’t know, meaningful?” Aya said, twirling her hair around her finger. Iwaizumi snuck a glance at her and her friends out of the corner of his eye.

Aya had been talking about dating Oikawa for the better part of their free period, but this was the first time she had said anything negative. Normally she just gushed about how pretty Oikawa was, and how he swept her hair out of her eyes for her, and how polite he was when he spoke to her.

Aya’s Oikawa sounded extremely different than Iwaizumi’s Oikawa.

Iwaizumi’s Oikawa was whiny and annoying. Whenever Iwaizumi did something he didn’t like, there was a screaming match. Oikawa didn’t care about being polite when it came to Iwaizumi. The only real similarity between Aya’s Oikawa and Iwaizumi’s Oikawa was that they were both tactile.

Of course, Oikawa had never brushed Iwaizumi’s bangs off his forehead like he did for Aya, but Iwaizumi didn’t want him to do that, anyway.

Iwaizumi’s conversation with Hanamaki replayed in his brain.

“Like, he asks me about _me_ , and he listens to me complain and stuff, and he offers, like... condolences, but he never tells me about _himself_ ,” Aya continued. “He’s been over to my house, like... every other day this week, but I’ve never even _seen_ his place. He always says it’s too far away, but my house isn’t exactly close to school.” She sighed, resting her cheek on her hand. One of her friends was quick to console her.

“Maybe he is just nervous about you meeting his family,” Shiho said kindly.

Aya rested her head on her desk. “Or maybe he’s embarrassed to have me meet his family,” she said. She seemed miserable.

Iwaizumi, however, was elated. Maybe Aya hadn’t seen Oikawa’s house or met Oikawa’s family, but Iwaizumi had. Not only had Iwaizumi met Oikawa’s grandma, but they had gotten to the point where they were exchanging cookie recipes and sharing volleyball and widows group stories on a weekly basis.

Part of Iwaizumi felt guilty for being so smug about beating Aya in the “who’s closer to Oikawa” competition, but a larger part of him wanted to get up and rub it in her face. However, he stayed seated as her friends patted her back and tried to cheer her up.

“Aya, come on, he can’t be embarrassed of you!”

“Yeah, Aya, you’re so pretty, there’s no way he wouldn’t want to show you off!”

“Maybe you have it the wrong way around, and he’s actually embarrassed of his family and doesn’t want _you_ to meet _them._ ”

Aya groaned. “ _Maybe_ ,” she conceded. “But like... You don’t get it. I feel like I don’t know anything about him, and we’ve been going out for almost a month now. Our anniversary is coming up, and he still doesn’t talk about anything serious. I don’t know what I’m doing wrong!”

“Nothing, Aya, you’re perfect,” Shiho promised. The other girls were all quick to agree, showering Aya in compliments.

Iwaizumi took a deep breath. At least he had a leg up on Aya in some regards. Oikawa talked to him about some things (sort of), like his grandma and his reading difficulties.

But as good as he felt about having the upper hand on this one thing, Aya was still the one dating Oikawa. As much as Iwaizumi didn’t want to admit it, the thought hurt. He wasn’t sure he was as in love as Hanamaki wanted to believe, but he didn’t like the thought of someone else edging into the biggest spot in Oikawa’s heart.

He was jealous; he just wasn’t sure why.

* * *

Iwaizumi jumped up for a block and winced when the ball ricocheted off his fingertips.

“Iwaizumi, jump sooner and higher,” Coach Irihata demanded. Iwaizumi nodded as he ran back to the end of the line. They had only been doing this blocking drill for a few minutes, but they had been practicing jump serves only a moment before and spiking before that. Iwaizumi’s legs were exhausted. He would _kill_ to practice his receives just so he didn’t have to jump anymore.

“Get it together, Iwa-chan,” Oikawa said tauntingly as Iwaizumi walked by to take his place in line.

Iwaizumi smacked Oikawa on the back of the head as he passed by. Oikawa whined, but before he could put up too much of a fuss, he had to run and make a block of his own. The ball smacked loudly against his palm, and Iwaizumi found his eyes lingering on Oikawa as he landed nimbly on his toes.

_Ugh._

Iwaizumi broke eye contact with Oikawa’s legs. He used the inside of his shirt half to hide his face and half to wipe sweat from his forehead. He had to stop staring.

Instead of looking at Oikawa, Iwaizumi looked to Hanamaki. Ever since Hanamaki had mentioned how much he “cared” about Matsukawa, Iwaizumi had been noticing the extra attention Hanamaki placed on Matsukawa.

Currently, Hanamaki was standing behind Matsukawa in line, waiting to block. His chin was resting on Matsukawa’s shoulder, even though Matsukawa was so much shorter. Matsukawa was complaining about something –probably about being tired or not getting enough to eat at lunch- but he also wasn’t moving out from under Hanamaki’s chin.

Iwaizumi crossed his arms over his chest. Was it okay that Hanamaki was touching Matsukawa so much, or was it creepy? If Matsukawa knew Hanamaki’s true feelings, would he let him get so close?

Would he even want to stay friends?

Iwaizumi couldn’t imagine anything shaking Matsukawa and Hanamaki’s friendship. They had been close before school started, and now with a quarter of their first year under their belts, they knew each other better than ever. Matsukawa wouldn’t let a crush get in the way of his friendship with Hanamaki.

Right?

Iwaizumi felt a little sick. If he _did_ have a crush on Oikawa –and he wasn’t sure that he did- it would be a serious problem. He and Oikawa had a shaky relationship at best. Iwaizumi falling in love with him was a surefire way to destroy whatever kind of friendship they had managed to scrounge together.

“That’s right, Kaneo. _Get some_ ,” Hanamaki cheered as Kaneo went up for a spike. Matsukawa grimaced when Hanamaki yelled in his ear. Meanwhile, Motomu attempted to block Kaneo’s spike. “Hell yeah, Motomu! Get there!” Hanamaki shouted.

“Shut _up_ ,” Matsukawa complained, ducking out from under Hanamaki’s chin. He shoved Hanamaki away from him.

Hanamaki seemed startled, but he quickly recovered. He slammed his shoulder into Matsukawa’s side, sending him stumbling.

“You’re such a dweeb,” Matsukawa complained, pulling Hanamaki into a headlock. He ruffled Hanamaki’s hair. Hanamaki squirmed, trying to get out of Matsukawa’s hold but laughing all the while.

A volleyball slammed onto their side of the court.

Coach Irihata cleared his throat. “Boys,” he said, his voice threatening. “Maybe if you hadn’t been horsing around, one of you would have made that block.”

A sheepish Morioka stood on the other side of the net. He had been able to spike freely when Matsukawa hadn’t jumped for his block.

“Sorry, Coach,” Matsukawa and Hanamaki replied in unison. At least they had the decency to look guilty.

“Try again,” Coach Irihata demanded. Morioka doubled back around for another spike, and this time Matsukawa ran and jumped to block it. Iwaizumi watched as the ball wiped off of the edge of Matsukawa’s hand. It bounced to the left side of the gym.

“Hey, are you okay?”

Iwaizumi jumped three feet in the air. “ _Shit_ ,” he swore. “Oikawa, I forgot you were behind me.”

Oikawa smirked. “I’m that sneaky, huh?” he asked, putting his hands on his hips and cocking his head to the side.

Iwaizumi shoved him. “No,” he replied. “I was just distracted.”

“You’re always distracted lately,” Oikawa pouted, and Iwaizumi rolled his eyes. It was impossible to keep up with Oikawa’s shifting moods.

Iwaizumi couldn’t think of a good answer, so he settled for a stupid comeback. “ _You’re_ always distracted,” he said in a whiney voice. This time, Oikawa was the one to shove Iwaizumi.

“You’re annoying.”

“You’re _both_ annoying,” Motomu pointed out, wiping his face off on a towel as they all shuffled forward in line.

“Oh, look! He speaks,” Matsukawa said as he took his spot behind Motomu. He patted Motomu’s back. “It’s good to hear your voice, buddy. Especially when you’re using it to insult someone other than me.”

“You’re annoying, too,” Motomu glowered, shaking off Matsukawa’s hand.

“Guys, how are we friends? We’re not even nice to each other,” Iwaizumi mused, wondering how this had so quickly become normal to him. His friends were jerks, but funnily enough, Iwaizumi didn’t actually mind. He liked how rudely his friends talked to each other. It was fun to try to keep up and get the last word, especially when they all used such empty insults.

“Honestly, you people are so unpleasant,” Oikawa agreed, sticking up his nose.

“You know what’s unpleasant?” Iwaizumi said, deciding the group needed a subject change. “Blocking drills.”

“True,” Matsukawa agreed. He slunk down to the floor. “I’m exhausted.”

Motomu nudged Matsukawa with his toe. Matsukawa smacked Motomu away blindly and stretched out a little further across the floor. It always surprised Iwaizumi how fast Matsukawa could go from walking and talking to falling asleep.

“You’ve got to start taking this seriously,” Oikawa said petulantly.

“Shh, it’s nap time,” Matsukawa said as Hanamaki joined the end of the line. “Oh, good,” Matsukawa said upon noticing him. He grabbed Hanamaki’s arm and pulled down.

Hanamaki’s eyebrows rose up. “Wait, wha- _ah!_ ” he yelped. He topped over and fell across Matsukawa. Hanamaki looked startled, but he started laughing as soon as he realized their awkward position. His cheeks glowed.

Hanamaki tried to stand up, but Matsukawa kept grabbing at his ankles. Iwaizumi watched Hanamaki try to detangle himself from Matsukawa’s gangly limbs. He was so transfixed, he almost didn’t hear Oikawa muttering under his breath: “Idiots.”

Iwaizumi flinched. He didn’t know what he was thinking. Fortunately, it was his turn to block, and Iwaizumi ran from his friends to meet Heisuke up at the net. His calves burned as he stretched to stop his spike.

The ball smacked off of Iwaizumi’s hand. Air swept up his shirt as he landed.

“Nice one,” Heisuke said.

“Right,” Iwaizumi said absently.

Heisuke gave him a strange look, but Iwaizumi avoided eye contact. Maybe Oikawa had been right. He _was_ distracted an awful lot lately.

* * *

Iwaizumi closed his eyes as he floated across the pool. The sun felt warm on his face. Spring was finally giving way to summer, and while the air during the day felt warm and sticky, the chilled night air cooled down the water so much it took breath away when he jumped in.

Still, it was nice to just... float.

“Cannonball!” Kaneo yelped, jumping into the pool right next to Iwaizumi’s head. A wave of water smacked Iwaizumi’s face, and he sat up, sputtering as his feet tried to find purchase on the bottom of the pool. “Got you!” Kaneo chirped when he resurfaced.

Iwaizumi could only cough up pool water as Kaneo smirked at him. “I think... you killed me...” he said between gasps. Kaneo just laughed and sunk under the water. Iwaizumi watched him swim away, his lungs seizing up. He pulled himself out of the pool and sat on the ledge.

Iwaizumi watched as Kaneo pulled the same trick on Heisuke; although, Heisuke didn’t take it quite as well. Before the tidal wave from Kaneo’s cannonball could hit him, he had tackled Kaneo under the water. Oikawa –who’d been talking with Heisuke before- backed away from their splashing and kicking. He swam over to Iwaizumi.

“Hey,” Oikawa said with a goofy smirk.

“What?” Iwaizumi grunted.

“Nothing!” Oikawa yelped, offended. “You always sound so accusatory when you talk to me. Geez, Iwa-chan,” he said, smile still on his face.

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes. “I just know you. And I know when you smile at me like a total goober that you want something or you’re about to insult me,” he said. Oikawa had a beautiful smile no matter what his intentions were, but Iwaizumi could spot the differences.

“I would never insult you, Iwaizumi.”

Iwaizumi snorted. “Sure.”

“Honestly. Never.”

“Right.”

“Except-“

Iwaizumi huffed out a sigh.

“Of all the swimsuits you could have chosen, why the hell did you pick _those_ awful things?” Oikawa asked, crinkling his nose.

Iwaizumi looked down at his bathing suit. He didn’t know what was wrong with it. “I like pineapples,” he said, figuring Oikawa didn’t like the print.

“It’s not the _pineapples_ , Iwa-chan. Although, now that you mention it, that’s ugly too,” Oikawa said. Iwaizumi fixed him with a glare that Oikawa either didn’t notice or pointedly ignored. “They’re so _short_.”

“They’re not short,” Iwaizumi said, pulling his trunks down self-consciously.

“They’re like mid-thigh.”

“Oikawa, you’re not allowed to make fun of my swimsuit, when _yours_ has fucking dinosaurs printed all over it!” he exclaimed, trying to take Oikawa’s attention off of his legs.

Oikawa’s face heated up a brilliant shade of red. His nose screwed up. “You promised you wouldn’t make fun of me if I came swimming today!”

“You started it!” Iwaizumi argued. However, one look at Oikawa’s pouting face had Iwaizumi buckling. Something about his wet hair in his eyes and the water dripping down his neck made him more convincing than usual. “But you’re right. Sorry. I like the dinosaur swimsuit, and I’m glad you’re here.”

Oikawa tilted his head to the side. “Really?”

“’Really’ what?” Iwaizumi asked. When Oikawa looked down at the floor of the pool, blush still high on his cheeks and feet kicking beneath him, Iwaizumi took mercy on him. “I really am sorry, I really am glad you’re here, and I really _do_ like your dinosaurs. Triceratops are my favorite.”

Oikawa blinked, and a small smile emerged on his face. He opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, Kaneo cut him off. “Cannonball!” he screamed for the umpteenth time. He jumped in close enough to the wall that he even got _Iwaizumi_ wet.

“Ah, Kaneo! Quit doing that!” Oikawa yelped, trying to scrub chlorine out of his eyes and tread water at the same time.

Kaneo plastered on a shit-eating grin. “Sure. I’ve already gotten everyone anyway. You were my last target,” he said before doing a backflip in the water. He was too carefree for his own good. “Hey, wanna see how many backflips I can do in a row?” Kaneo asked when he came up for a breath.

Oikawa glowered. “No.”

“Sure,” Iwaizumi answered, clapping a hand over Oikawa’s mouth.

Kaneo gasped –partially in excitement and partially for a good breath of air- before flipping. Iwaizumi counted fourteen before Kaneo got so dizzy he ended up twisting in the water and flailing his arms to resurface. “Help!” he yelped.

Iwaizumi huffed out a sigh before diving into the water, his arms stretching out in front of him. Kaneo was light as a feather. He was so small, Iwaizumi was worried about his strong arms snapping him in half as he swam him to safety.

Oikawa gulped as Iwaizumi lifted Kaneo up onto the edge of the pool.

“Are you okay?” Iwaizumi asked, noticing Oikawa’s wide eyes.

“Yeah,” Oikawa said in a small voice, his eyes trained on Iwaizumi’s arms instead of on his face. He seemed to shake himself out of it, however. “The real question is: Is _Kaneo_ okay?”

“I’m kind of dizzy,” Kaneo admitted.

“Maybe just take it easy then,” Iwaizumi suggested. He hopped out onto the pool deck. He grabbed an inner tube and used it to pillow Kaneo’s head as he helped him lie down. “Just chill out, you’ve been going crazy ever since we got here. You need a break.”

As Kaneo got comfortable, their other friends swam over. “Hey, is Kaneo okay?” Matsukawa asked. Even Motomu had looked up from his book. He stared at them from his spot lounging atop lawn chair.

“Yeah, he’s cool,” Iwaizumi promised.

“Wrong, I’m _bored_ ,” Kaneo complained, as Heisuke replaced the inner tube Kaneo was resting on with his lap. Despite how annoyed Kaneo seemed to be lying down, he looked awfully comfortable laying his head on Heisuke’s leg. “Someone needs to tell me a story, and it can’t be Heisuke. I know all his stories already,” he said innocently enough.

“Hey,” Heisuke complained, flicking Kaneo’s nose. Kaneo only giggled.

Hanamaki leaned over the pool ledge. His hair looked deep red when it was wet. “I’ve got a good story,” he said, his eyes sparking with excitement. “This one time, Matsukawa and I went to see our friend Kaori in a play, right? And she was really good, but we didn’t know her that well, so we weren’t going to stay for the after party or anything, but her friend Shiraishi convinced us to go. Except for she didn’t say that the after party was _actually_ a birthday party only for close friends and family, so-“

“Yeah, yeah, we all know this one already,” Heisuke cut in, rolling his eyes.

Kaneo winced. “Yeah, you guys got flustered during the birthday song and ran away screaming. You’ve told it, like, a thousand times.”

Hanamaki frowned. “But did I tell you about how afterwards-“

“You had to interview her for the school paper and it was super awkward? Because _yes_. You’ve probably told that story more than you’ve told the after party one,” Heisuke said.

Hanamaki crossed his arms and pouted, while Matsukawa patted his back. Kaneo squirmed. “Does anyone else have a good story?”

“I went on a date with Aya yesterday,” Oikawa admitted, scratching the back of his neck.

Iwaizumi’s stomach twisted. His usual tight control over his facial expression wavered, and he turned to grab his towel to try to hide his face. He was done swimming anyway. Only Oikawa, Matsukawa, and Hanamaki were still in the water, apparently not affected by how cold it was.

“I’ve never been on a date before,” Kaneo mused. “What’s it like?”

“Depends, really,” Oikawa said. “Aya acts kind of shy when she talks to me. And she’s sort of boring.”

“Lame,” Hanamaki said.

“ _Not_ lame,” Oikawa corrected, eyebrow twitching. “She’s not the most exciting person, but our dates are still good. She’s really nice, and she’s a great listener. But mostly, like... she’s really supportive. Like, she compliments me all the time, and like... she likes holding my hand. She’s shy when it comes to talking, but not when it comes to physical stuff.”

“That’s cool, man. I’m happy for you,” Matsukawa said.

“I’m not,” Hanamaki argued. “Don’t you think you should be with someone, I don’t know... more assertive? Like someone who will tell you what you need to hear?”

Oikawa frowned. “Um...”

“Plus, I’ve always pictured you with someone strong. Someone passionate about the things they care about, someone strong-willed. But also someone who is gentle enough to take care of you, you know?” Hanamaki asked. Oikawa blinked, and Hanamaki pressed further. “You _know?_ ”

“Sure?” Oikawa asked. “I mean... Aya’s not going to be my wife or anything; she doesn’t have to be the perfect girl for me. We’re casual. But she’s cute and pretty, and she agrees with just about everything I say, so we’re good. Plus, she likes crepes so we eat those together, like... all of the time.”

Hanamaki frowned. “But-“

“Hanamaki, let Oikawa date who he wants to date,” Iwaizumi cut in, his cheeks burning. He had his towel over his head so that no one would see him blushing.

Hanamaki huffed, but didn’t say anything else. Kaneo groaned after a beat of silence. “It’s so _boring_ sitting on the edge of the pool. How does Motomu do it?”

Motomu looked up from his book again, sunglasses glinting. He didn’t say anything, but he did take a sip of some fruity drink he had gotten from the pool snack bar. He went back to reading wordlessly.

Matsukawa hummed. “I think Motomu appreciates silence,” he said.

“He’s a simple guy,” Heisuke tacked on.

Oikawa looked at Motomu. “Or he’s been silently planning our murders this entire time. He’s just been playing nice to get close to us,” he said, a sly smirk creeping up his face as he spoke.

Iwaizumi smushed his toes into Oikawa’s face, a job made easy when Oikawa was swimming and Iwaizumi was on dry land. “You have the craziest conspiracy theories,” he said.

Kaneo sat up straight with a loud gasp. “But wait! He’s right!” he exclaimed. “It’s always the quiet ones you have to look out for!”

Motomu adjusted his glasses absently and sunlight bounced off of the reflective lenses. Iwaizumi shuddered, and as did everyone else. “Okay, that’s enough pool for today, I’m out of here,” Iwaizumi decided. “This is too much for me.”

“You’re leaving so soon?” Hanamaki asked, looking put out.

Iwaizumi shrugged. “It’s getting too creepy. Plus the water is cold, and I’m tired. I’ll see you all tomorrow for morning practice.”

“Goodbye, Iwa-chan!” Kaneo chirped with his best Oikawa impression.

“Later, Iwa.”

“See you soon, buddy.”

“Peace out!”

Iwaizumi stood up and crammed his feet into his sandals. Oikawa popped up out of the pool before he could leave, though. “I think I’m going to leave with you, if that’s cool. We can walk to the train together?” he asked.

“Sure,” Iwaizumi agreed, pulling on a t-shirt. He and Oikawa gathered their things and left the pool, their friends waving behind them. Oikawa bounced over cracks in the sidewalk, his arm brushing Iwaizumi’s with every step.

“Hey, thanks for inviting me swimming today,” he said, a bright smile on his face. It was funny how his walls seemed to come down the second they were alone.

“No problem,” Iwaizumi promised. “You can basically hang out with us whenever you want. You don’t need, like... a formal invitation every time.” Iwaizumi kept his head on the sidewalk in front of him. Instead of jumping over cracks, he stepped over them, somewhat following Oikawa’s lead.

“Yeah, well... still. It was nice to have one. You’re a good friend to keep hanging out with me like this, Iwaizumi.”

Iwaizumi rolled his eyes. “You haven’t had a good friend before, then. Spending time together is pretty much the bare minimum of friendship,” he said. Oikawa’s smile softened. He turned to look at Iwaizumi, but Iwaizumi kept his eyes down, knowing that he would say something stupid if he looked at Oikawa right now.

“I mean... I don’t think I had any good friends in middle school. But there was this one kid in fourth grade, who like... for the most part was pretty cool.”

Iwaizumi’s head whipped up. “Yeah?”

Oikawa smirked. “Yeah. He like... snuck me Yan Yan whenever I asked for it,” he teased, and Iwaizumi didn’t hesitate to shove him into the street. Oikawa yelped. “Iwa-chan! How dangerous!”

“There’s no cars coming, Oikawa. You’re fine.”

“Still,” Oikawa said moodily. They reached the train station. “I guess this is where we go separate ways. You have to go to the other platform, huh?” he asked, and Iwaizumi grunted in confirmation. “Okay. Well... See you tomorrow, I guess.”

“Yeah, see you Oikawa.”

Iwaizumi watched as Oikawa climbed the steps to the platform. Something painful twisted in his chest. The sooner he figured out his feelings, the better.

* * *

It’s not for another three days at a movie-night-turned-sleepover at Motomu’s house that Hanamaki apologizes for the ‘Pool Incident,’ as Iwaizumi had taken to calling it.

It’s also the middle of the night when he does it, and Iwaizumi wakes up from the sheer feeling that he was being watched.

His heart nearly stopped when he opened his eyes to find Hanamaki’s face less than two inches from his own. “Hanamaki, what the fuck? What time is it?” he asked, clutching his chest and rolling his face further into his pillow.

“What?” Hanamaki asked, as if that was an entirely unreasonable question to ask after getting woken up in the middle of the night. “I don’t know. I needed to talk to you.”

Iwaizumi groaned. “It couldn’t have waited until the morning?” he asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Hanamaki winced. “Well, it’s kind of a private matter,” he said. He shifted under the covers. “I wanted to apologize. I’m sorry if I was pushy at the pool with Oikawa... I shouldn’t have hinted about dating someone like you when you don’t know you feel yet. I should have waited.”

Iwaizumi rolled over to face Hanamaki. He squinted as he tried to open his eyes. “Yeah, maybe you should have,” he agreed. “But it’s okay. I don’t think that he could have guessed in a million years that you were talking about me.”

Hanamaki frowned. “Why?”

Iwaizumi shrugged. “You were way too generous, man. I’m none of those things you said, except for maybe the assertive part,” he answered. He didn’t know if he would ever describe himself as passionate and gentle.

Hanamaki nuzzled his nose into the blanket they were sharing. “You’re _all_ of those things, Iwaizumi,” he promised. “But we’re... we’re cool, right?”

“Of course,” Iwaizumi promised, his voice groggy. “Also, next time we have a sleepover, I’ll let you share a futon with Matsukawa, okay? I’ll sleep with Motomu, even if he snores.”

Hanamaki kicked his shin for no reason. “You’re too good to me,” he said, and Iwaizumi couldn’t help but agree. He didn’t know why he kept doing nice things for Hanamaki when Hanamaki kept hurting him for it. “Also, wanna help me freeze Heisuke’s underwear?”

Iwaizumi smirked. “Definitely.”

* * *

“You’ve got this,” Iwaizumi promised, leaning over Oikawa’s shoulder. Oikawa was wearing a tank top, and Iwaizumi was so close he could feel the heat from the skin stretched across his shoulder blades. “What’s the next step?”

“Um... divide by two?” Oikawa asked, his pencil hovering above his paper.

Iwaizumi tsked.

“Divide by-“

“Don’t divide,” Iwaizumi said. He pointed to the math problem Oikawa was working on. “We can’t divide unless we’re multiplying _everything_ on one side of the equation. You can only subtract or add to both sides right now.”

Oikawa huffed out a puff of air, disrupting the hair lying on his forehead. He fixed it back into place before staring at the math problem blankly. “Um... Can I subtract by six?” he asked.

“Sure,” Iwaizumi replied.

Oikawa squinted. “Could I also subtract by 2x?”

“Yep!” Iwaizumi said brightly. “You get it.”

“Not really,” Oikawa said, but he managed to fill out the rest of the problem anyway. “Is x less than or equal to three?” he asked, uncertain.

Iwaizumi ruffled Oikawa’s hair. “Yeah, man, you got it. Way to go,” he said encouragingly.

Oikawa smiled -proud of himself- and Iwaizumi basked under the light of it. However, a knock at his bedroom door stole his attention away. “Tooru, dear? I brought you and Hajime cookies,” his grandma said, letting herself in.

“Ah, thanks,” Iwaizumi said. He got up to grab the plate from her, while Oikawa scrambled to cover up his math homework.

“Gram! I didn’t say come in!”

“Well, isn’t Iwaizumi just helping you with math?” she asked, and Oikawa’s face colored pink. Iwaizumi snorted. There wasn’t anything Oikawa couldn’t find a reason to be embarrassed about.

“Hey, what kind are these?” Iwaizumi asked, having mercy on Oikawa and changing the subject. He held the plate closer to try to guess what Oikawa’s grandma had put inside before she told him.

“Walnut chocolate chip. It was what I had lying around the pantry,” she said dismissively. “If you don’t like them, I won’t be offended.”

“Oh, no, I’ll definitely like them,” Iwaizumi promised. “I like everything you bake. And so does my dad. He’s been driving himself crazy, trying to figure out your secret recipe for the oatmeal toffee cookies. He keeps asking me for your number.”

Oikawa’s grandmother laughed. “He can call as much as he wants, but he’s never getting it.”

“That’s what I told him,” Iwaizumi said, scratching the back of his neck.

“Tell your father if he wants more oatmeal raisin cookies, he’ll have to ask me. The only copies of that recipe are either written into my will or up here,” she said, tapping her temple. “I do it from memory. Same with my apple pie.”

“I don’t think that my dad could do anything from memory,” Iwaizumi said. “He’d forget his own head if it wasn’t already attached to him.”

Oikawa groaned. “Okay, well not that this small talk isn’t fun, but I have _homework_ I need to do,” he whined, draping himself across his notes.

“Of course. Sorry, Tooru,” his grandma said sweetly. She brushed Oikawa’s hair out of his eyes, and Iwaizumi didn’t miss the way Oikawa perked up a little from her touch. “I’ll leave you boys to it.”

Oikawa’s grandma closed the door behind her, and Iwaizumi turned to Oikawa. “You know, I like talking to your grandma. You don’t have to try to get rid of her whenever we’re together,” he said.

Oikawa crinkled his nose. “But we’re _busy._ We only have forty minutes left before your train comes, and I still don’t get _any_ of this,” he complained. His head stayed ducked down low as he pulled out his math homework again.

Iwaizumi sighed. He didn’t know why Oikawa was so adamant that his grandma didn’t know about how much he was struggling at school.

“Okay,” he said because on some level, Iwaizumi could understand how this might be embarrassing for Oikawa and that he might need every second of Iwaizumi’s time to tutor him. However, Oikawa and his grandma were close. What was the point in keeping secrets? “But maybe sometime I should come over just to hang out, like we do at my house, you know? I don’t want your gram to think I don’t want to talk to her.”

Oikawa arched an eyebrow. “Well, _do_ you want to talk to her?”

Iwaizumi frowned. “Of course. She’s nice,” he answered.

Oikawa seemed disgruntled. He squirmed in his seat, and Iwaizumi reopened his math textbook, deciding to ignore him. “How about number six? Can you do that one?” he asked, angling the page for Oikawa to see. Oikawa’s eyes widened as he stared at the problem. “Just try writing it out, and then see what you think comes next,” Iwaizumi suggested.

Oikawa bit his lip as he scribbled down the inequality. He was so focused. It was admirable how much effort Oikawa put into little things, like math homework and jump serves. He was such a hard worker. He was so passionate and devoted.

Iwaizumi’s eyes stayed glued on the lip Oikawa had caught between his teeth. “Is this right?” Oikawa asked.

“Yeah,” Iwaizumi answered without looking. “Or, actually-“ He shook himself out of it and looked at Oikawa’s paper. “No, wait, yep! That’s right! Ah, you did it, that’s so awesome!” he cheered. “What do you think you do next?”

Oikawa’s nose twitched. “Divide by two?”

“Yes!” Iwaizumi exclaimed. He clapped Oikawa on the shoulder. “Great job!”

Oikawa lowered his head, hiding his face, but Iwaizumi could still see a tiny smile pull at the corner of his mouth. He stared at the faint flush to his cheeks. Something about seeing Oikawa blush made Iwaizumi’s face heat up. But even if he was bright red, he wasn’t uncomfortable. Sitting next to Oikawa at his desk, shoulders bumping every time they moved, was starting to become Iwaizumi’s favorite place in the world.

* * *

“Nice kill, Iwa!” Morioka shouted from across the gym.

Iwaizumi landed neatly on his feet, his palm stinging from his most recent spike. His overall strength was still weak compared to the third years on the team, but lately, Iwaizumi was starting to feel more confident about volleyball. Even his mom had noticed how big his arms were getting. (She kept reminiscing about when he was a noodle-y little baby, very obviously trying to make Iwaizumi as uncomfortable as possible.)

Iwaizumi wasn’t the only one growing up, however. Oikawa had come into Aobajōsai as the most athletic first year on the team, and time was only making him fitter. They could never run enough laps to faze Oikawa; they could never do enough blocking drills to make him tired. Sometimes, when Iwaizumi was sure no one was paying attention to him, he couldn’t help but marvel at Oikawa’s calf muscles. How did his legs get so strong?

Iwaizumi’s eyes flickered over to Oikawa’s legs as he thought about them.

A second year on Iwaizumi’s team tossed up a serve that smacked the court almost as soon as it had left his hand. Kaneo dived for it, and looked dazed when it completely missed his forearm.

“And that’s match point,” Matsukawa said, stretching out his shoulders.

Iwaizumi blinked away from Oikawa. He felt his cheeks warm up when Hanamaki caught his eye from the other side of the net. Every time Iwaizumi stared at Oikawa, Hanamaki caught him in the act.

The rest of practice went smoothly. Iwaizumi bickered with Heisuke as they stretched out, and he whipped the back of Motomu’s thigh with his towel while he was getting changed. He started towards the train station with Hanamaki and Matsukawa close behind him.

“Hey, Iwaizumi, you wanna get online tonight?” Matsukawa asked.

“Depends what you’re playing,” Iwaizumi answered, his eyebrows furrowing together when he realized the door to the gym was still cracked open.

“CoD, what else?” Matsukawa asked.

Iwaizumi peered into the gym, frowning when a familiar shade of auburn hair ran past the doorway. “... I’ll think about it,” he said belatedly, stopping in his tracks.

Hanamaki punched his shoulder. “Hey, are you okay?” he asked.

Iwaizumi nodded slowly. “... Yeah. I just realized I forgot someone- Or, _something_ ,” he corrected. “I’ll catch up with you guys later. I’ll definitely get online tonight,” he promised, turning to run up the steps to the gym.

“Catch you later, Iwaizumi.”

“You’re so weird, Iwaizumi!”

Iwaizumi smirked and slammed the gym door closed behind him. He leaned up against the door for a moment before seeking out Oikawa. The other boy was bouncing a volleyball in front of him, gearing up for a serve. He spun the ball in his hands a couple times.

“Hey!” Iwaizumi shouted.

Oikawa jumped at least three feet in the air. The ball left his hands without his permission, and Iwaizumi laughed when it went soaring, only to come crashing down and bounce off of Oikawa’s head.

“Oi! Don’t scare me like that!” Oikawa demanded, stomping his foot. “And stop _laughing._ ”

“Sorry... _Sorry_...” Iwaizumi said, unable to stop himself. He doubled over, laughing at the ground so he wasn’t laughing at Oikawa’s face. “I’m sorry, I am,” he promised, sobering up. “What are you doing here so late, anyway?”

Oikawa didn’t look happy. In fact, he looked extremely irritated. “Getting some extra serving practice in,” he answered.

Iwaizumi wiped at the mirth in his eyes, starting to grow a little more serious. “What? Don’t.”

Oikawa arched an eyebrow. “Excuse me?”

“We already did serving drills today,” Iwaizumi said. “A ton of them. You don’t have to do extra practice all the time. Take a break.”

Oikawa’s expression turned into something cooler. Iwaizumi had come to recognize the associated slope of his shoulders and cock of his head as a wall coming between him and Oikawa. He had done something to make Oikawa feel defensive.

“I do take breaks,” he said. “Sometimes I go to your house or you come to mine. And sometimes I go out with Aya after practice.”

Iwaizumi grunted. “I guess.”

Oikawa grabbed another volleyball from the ball cart. He bounced it on the ground a few times, awkward silence filling the space between them. “So...” he said when neither of them moved. “Are you planning to stick around? Because I wouldn’t mind switching to some setting practice.”

Iwaizumi sighed. He looked at the twenty or so volleyballs spread out the other side of the gym, all indications of the extra serving practice Oikawa had already snuck in. “Tooru, why don’t you just let me take you home?” he asked.

Oikawa’s nose crinkled.

“Please?” Iwaizumi tried.

“Ten more serves,” Oikawa bartered, twirling the volleyball in his hands more fiercely than Iwaizumi would have thought he could.

“Five, and I’ll carry your backpack for you,” Iwaizumi offered. He knew Oikawa would agree. By this point, his arms must be exhausted.

Oikawa seemed to think about it for a minute. “...Okay,” he eventually agreed. “But only because you asked so nicely,” he said with a wink, and Iwaizumi felt red creep up his face like a thermometer.

“Whatever,” Iwaizumi said dismissively. “I’m waiting outside where it’s cooler.”

Iwaizumi stepped out of the gym, leaving the door open behind him so he could hear each of Oikawa’s serves and count them. He held his knees to his chest. Eventually, Oikawa left the gym. “Hey, you’re still here.”

“Obviously,” Iwaizumi said, grumpy.

“Obviously,” Oikawa teased, ruffling Iwaizumi’s hair so hard, it felt like his knuckles were grinding into his scalp. “I’m going to change, and then we can leave together.”

“Sure,” Iwaizumi replied. “I’ll just be here waiting for you.”

“ _Iwa-chan_ , how _chivalrous_.”

“You’re a dweeb.”

Oikawa laughed and ran off before Iwaizumi could gear up to punch him. Iwaizumi watched him leave. He noticed the faint tremor in his legs from jumping and running around all afternoon.

It was good that he had stepped in when he had; however, it was _terrible_ that he couldn’t stop _staring at Oikawa’s legs._

* * *

Later that evening, Iwaizumi practically collapsed onto his bed. He had promised Matsukawa that he would play Call of Duty with him, but honestly, he was exhausted.

Riding a half an hour to Oikawa’s place, and then an hour back home wasn’t convenient. It took up a lot of time, and while Iwaizumi loved talking to Oikawa’s grandmother, she didn’t always understand that sometimes Iwaizumi needed to _get home._

Fortunately, he had been able to get his homework done on the train. However, he was still exhausted, and gaming didn’t feel like a possibility.

He rolled over and felt his bedside table blindly for his cellphone. He needed to text Matsukawa to tell him he wasn’t going to be on.

However, as Iwaizumi pulled up Matsukawa’s name in his contacts, his phone vibrated with an incoming text.

 **Hanamaki (7:42)**  
Hey are you still with Oikawa?

Iwaizumi frowned.

 **Iwaizumi (7:43)  
** No.

 **Hanamaki (7:43)  
** Good.

 **Hanamaki (7:44)**  
I caught you staring today.

 **Hanamaki (7:44)**  
And I know you stayed back to practice with him.

 **Iwaizumi (7:45)  
** So?

 **Hanamaki (7:45)**  
So?  
  
**Hanamaki (7:45)**  
SO I really think you might be in love with him.  
  
**Hanamaki (7:45)**  
Obviously.  
  
**Hanamaki (7:46)**  
You’d have to be.

Iwaizumi’s stomach twisted as the texts rolled in. He hated how observant Hanamaki was. And not only was he observant, but he was also _persistent._ The last thing Iwaizumi wanted to think about was having a crush on Oikawa. Even if he _did_ like him, he would rather live the rest of his life without ever realizing his feelings than confront them head on.

 **Iwaizumi (7:59)**  
You’re wrong.

Iwaizumi stared at his phone screen for a minute, watching as Hanamaki typed. Each time the dots blinked, anxiety grew in Iwaizumi’s chest. He texted again before Hanamaki could send what he was working on.

 **Iwaizumi (8:01)**  
I’m going to sleep. Goodnight.

Iwaizumi threw his phone on the ground, determined not to look at it for the rest of the night. He didn’t want to see what Hanamaki had to say.

* * *

Iwaizumi was worried that his phone might actually burn a hole through his gym bag. He knew Hanamaki had texted him back last night; he had seen it in his notifications. However, he still hadn’t read the message yet, and he didn’t plan to. Just knowing the message was there was enough to make him nervous.

Iwaizumi changed into his practice clothes with jerky, awkward motions. On a positive note, he was definitely getting stronger. His chest was starting to stretch out the thin material of his t-shirt. His sleeves strained slightly around his biceps.

“Hey, Iwaizumi. Did you get my text last night?” Hanamaki asked, sneaking up behind him.

Iwaizumi startled as Hanamaki put his stuff on the shelf next to Oikawa’s things. (Oikawa wasn’t in the clubroom. He had kept the key to stay late yesterday, and he had to come in early to unlock the gym. Iwaizumi hadn’t seen him yet today, but that was okay. He wasn’t sure he could face him right now, anyway.)

“No,” Iwaizumi answered honestly, rolling on extra deodorant.

Hanamaki pressed his lips together. “Okay... Well, I would highly recommend it, okay? Like maybe read it before we go into practice,” he said. Iwaizumi felt the color drain from his face, and Hanamaki put his hands up in surrender. “Hey, don’t worry, it’s nothing bad or... weird or anything. It’s a nice text, I promise.” His smile wavered. “Just read it, okay?”

Iwaizumi held his breath for a second, puffing out his cheeks. “...Yeah, okay,” he eventually agreed.

Hanamaki smiled. “Cool.” He pulled on his clothes in a whirlwind as Iwaizumi tied his laces. Hanamaki crammed his feet into his shoes. “I gotta go, okay? Its my job to help set up the net this morning. See you in a few minutes?”

“Yep,” Iwaizumi agreed, fishing through his bag for his phone. Hanamaki smiled when he saw Iwaizumi pull it out and shot him a wink and finger guns before leaving the clubroom.

 **Hanamaki (8:07)**  
Okay, well hear me out: I’m not trying to get on your case. If you don’t like Oikawa, and I’m like... alone on the whole crushing-super-hard-on-your-best-friend thing, that’s like... whatever. I’m used to it.

 **Hanamaki (8:07)**  
I just want you to know that if you DID like Oikawa, that it would be okay, you know?

 **Hanamaki (8:08)**  
It wouldn’t change anything because if you DO like him, then admitting it is just... admitting it. It’s not going from not having a crush to ACTUALLY having a crush. It’s just going from ACTUALLY having a crush to ADMITTING you actually have a crush.

 **Hanamaki (8:09)**  
If that makes sense.

 **Hanamaki (8:09)**  
It definitely doesn’t make sense.

 **Hanamaki (8:09)**  
But like... if you do like him, and you admit it, I’m like... here for you, you know? We’ll get through it together. So don’t be scared. I got you, bro.

 **Hanamaki (8:09)**  
I GOT YOU.

Iwaizumi frowned down at his phone. His shoulders pinched together when he realized his bottom lip was wobbling. He looked up at the ceiling, blinking quickly to hold back tears.

He didn’t _want_ to have a crush on Oikawa. He just wanted to be his friend. He liked taking care of him, and he liked how Oikawa trusted him with things he didn’t trust anyone else with, sure, but... But Iwaizumi didn’t know how he felt about _kissing_ him. He didn’t know how he felt about holding Oikawa’s hand.

The thought of dating Oikawa –and all the things that came with it- felt stressful. But Iwaizumi couldn’t tell if he was stressed because he didn’t _want_ to do those things, or if it was because he felt like doing those things was wrong. After all, normal people didn’t think about their childhood best friends like that.

Or, at least, Iwaizumi didn’t _think_ they did.

Just thinking about it was enough to stress Iwaizumi out. Even if he _did_ have a crush on Oikawa, it wouldn’t matter. He had a girlfriend.

Iwaizumi tried to push it all to the back of his mind. It was too early in the morning to think about Oikawa as more than a friend, even if he did have Hanamaki’s unwavering support. He came here for volleyball.

He came here for _volleyball._

Iwaizumi met the rest of the team in the gym. The other first years were already getting started on stretches, so Iwaizumi got on the ground to join them. Oikawa was reaching for his toes, and Iwaizumi mentally cursed how tall he had grown in their years apart.

“You read my text, Iwa?” Hanamaki asked.

“Yeah.”

“Cool,” Hanamaki said, nodding.

The morning was mostly for conditioning, so once the team was stretched out, Morioka had everyone do circuits for the first quarter of the hour. Iwaizumi thought about how relaxed Oikawa looked while he did his burpees. Meanwhile, Iwaizumi was so agitated that he felt like he was shoving the earth away from him -rather than pushing his torso up- with every push up he did.

Oikawa always concentrated when he did mountain climbers. Iwaizumi thought about how cute it was to watch his tongue poke out the side of his mouth while he did math problems.

Halfway through practice, Hanamaki elbowed him in the side. “Hey, are you okay?” he asked. Iwaizumi only grunted. “Yeah, okay, that’s an answer,” Hanamaki snickered, patting his shoulder before running to get the ball cart. They had serving and receiving practice up next.

Iwaizumi got in the receiving line. On the opposite side of the court, Oikawa was in line to serve.

The lines moved up slowly. Iwaizumi counted the people in front of him and realized that Oikawa would be the one serving to him. His nose twitched. He had gotten pretty good at receiving Oikawa’s serves, considering how often Oikawa spent the afternoon at his house and how often they hung back in the gym together. Oikawa’s favorite thing to practice was serving, which left Iwaizumi in the receiving position. Iwaizumi knew he would have to be on his toes, but he wasn’t as worried as one of the other first years might be if they were in his place.

Oikawa came up to the back line and grabbed a volleyball from the cart with one hand. Iwaizumi’s own fingers twitched. He couldn’t palm a volleyball like Oikawa could.

The confidence surrounding Oikawa when he was about to serve was intimidating in and of itself. It didn’t help that Iwaizumi knew the power loaded in Oikawa’s right shoulder intimately well.

Iwaizumi widened his stance a little further, his body coiled and ready.

Oikawa spun the ball between his hands. He smirked at Iwaizumi from across the net. “Iwa-chan, don’t worry if you miss it! You’re only a first year, you still have a lot to learn!”

“You’re only a first year, too, idiot!” Iwaizumi yelled back, but Oikawa’s grin only grew wider. Iwaizumi was pissed off for a moment, but then Oikawa tossed the ball into the air.

It wasn’t often that Iwaizumi really _looked_ at Oikawa while he was serving. Usually, his eyes were on the ball, not Oikawa’s body. But out of the corner of his eye, Iwaizumi noticed just how long Oikawa’s strides were as he ran to jump, and that was all it took to distract him.

Iwaizumi took in the straight line of Oikawa’s arms, the height of his jump, the way his long legs tucked up beneath him as he leapt up for the ball. His shoulder rotated so fast, the hair above his ear was disturbed by the force of it. It fluttered across his cheek.

The ball zoomed by Iwaizumi’s hip before he had even registered the sound of Oikawa’s broad palm snapping against the leather.

Iwaizumi didn’t even _move._ He couldn’t have even if he wanted to.

The rest of the team cheered for Oikawa, praising him for his amazing serve. Meanwhile, Iwaizumi walked stiffly to the end of the line on the opposite side of the court. His heart felt like it was taking up _way_ too much room in his chest; his breathing was shallow.

He stared at the side of Oikawa’s smiling face as they switched sides and realized that denial could only last so long.

The shrill sound of a girl cheering made Iwaizumi snap out of it. He looked up to the catwalk, and saw Aya cheering and waving. Iwaizumi’s stomach dropped. Meanwhile, Oikawa’s eyes were shut up in a massive smile as he waved to his girlfriend on the balcony.

Iwaizumi closed his eyes and tried to shut everything out.

* * *

Iwaizumi threw open the door to his house, tears brewing behind his eyes. He dropped his bag on the floor and kicked off his shoes. _“Mom?”_ he yelled, voice urgent. “Mom?!”

“Hajime?” came his mom’s surprised response from upstairs. She barreled down the steps a moment later, worry clear on her face. “What are you doing home so early? What happened to volleyball practice? Are you okay? Is something wro-“

Iwaizumi cut her off by literally throwing himself at her. He clutched onto her with both arms, not caring if he was suffocating her in a hug. He _needed his mom_. She was just going to have to get over it.

The second she wrapped her arms around him, Iwaizumi felt tears finally fall from his eyes. “Oh, honey,” she cooed. “What happened?”

Iwaizumi’s shoulders wracked. All day, he had wanted to come home to his mom and cry, but now that he was here, he felt so stupid. He was a first year in high school. He shouldn’t be clutching to his mom like this; he wasn’t an elementary school kid whose best friend had just moved away. He was fifteen, and Oikawa was probably asking for him at afternoon practice.

“Hajime, you’re scaring me. What happened?” his mother asked again.

Iwaizumi pulled away, wiping uselessly at his eyes. His chest heaved. “O-Oikawa h-has a _girlfriend_ ,” he managed to choke out. He didn’t look up to see his mom’s reaction. He didn’t know if he could handle it. He squeaked more than he spoke. “And... And, _mom_ , I’m s-so _jealous,_ I just-“

He broke off with a sob. He had been holding back tears all through class, and now that he was home, he couldn’t hold back. It was so awful to sit in the desk in front of Aya and hear her gossip about Oikawa behind his back. If he were dating Oikawa, he would be such a good boyfriend. He would love Oikawa so much because he already _did_. He already loved Oikawa so _unbelievably_ much. He should be the one dating him, not Aya.

“Hajime, love, just calm down, take deep breaths,” his mother said. She rubbed his back as he tried to calm down. “Let’s get you out of the doorway, hun.” Iwaizumi let his mom lead him into the living room. She sat him down on the couch and disappeared. A few minutes later she came back with a mug of hot tea. “Little sips,” she instructed.

Iwaizumi grabbed the cup and drank from it slowly. His hands were shaking, but he was starting to feel like he could breathe again.

His mom patted his knee. “There you go. You’re okay,” she promised.

“But I’m not,” Iwaizumi croaked. “I don’t want Oikawa to have a girlfriend. I want him to be dating _me.”_

“I know,” his mom replied sympathetically. She didn’t seem surprised by the information at all, and Iwaizumi figured that if Hanamaki could tell he had a crush on Oikawa, his mom must have known too. “I’m sorry he’s seeing someone else, that must feel so awful, huh?”

Iwaizumi nodded, his chin quivering. He stared into his tea.

Meanwhile, his mom rubbed his arm caringly. “You do so much for him. It must be hard to see him taking care of someone else.”

Iwaizumi made a keening noise. “Yeah,” he agreed, scrunching his eyes closed.

It was exhausting, sometimes, to care for Oikawa. He didn’t take care of himself; he was too embarrassed and insecure to ask for help or take breaks. Iwaizumi didn’t mind being there for him. He didn’t mind helping him with his homework or making him leave the gym when it got too late. It was all worth it when Oikawa smiled at him or nearly sat in his lap on the train ride home.

But to know that Oikawa was doing those things and more for Aya...

Iwaizumi started sniffling again.

“Hey, what’s going on in here?” Iwaizumi’s dad asked dumbly when he came through the front door. He had grocery bags piled up in each arm, and he had to use his foot to close the door behind him.

Iwaizumi’s mom was the one to answer. “Oikawa has found himself a girlfriend,” she said.

“And it’s not Hajime?”

Iwaizumi put his tea down so he could flop face first into the couch cushions. He groaned. “I couldn’t be a girlfriend even if I wanted to be!” he exclaimed, frustrated.

“Oh,” his dad replied. “Hold on.”

Iwaizumi’s mom rubbed his back as his dad put away his groceries. Iwaizumi kept his face planted in the couch cushions. He was embarrassed. His crush was more obvious than he had realized, if even his dad could understand his jealousy without being told. Usually his dad was slow to pick up on feelings. The whole team must know about his crush on Oikawa.

His dad came back in a second, dusting his hands off on his pants. “So Oikawa is dating some girl?” he asked, making Iwaizumi groan into the sofa again.

“Yes,” his mom answered.

“What a bitch,” his dad said. Iwaizumi sat up, surprised. His dad’s eyes widened. “What?”

“She’s not a bitch!” Iwaizumi said, shocked.

His dad waved him off. “She must be,” he said, and Iwaizumi couldn’t help but laugh. Meanwhile, his dad continued, oblivious. “Anyone who gets in the way of you and Tooru getting together is a waste of my time.”

“Dad, what he heck?” Iwaizumi asked. His smile was slow to leave his face.

His dad clapped him on the shoulder. “Don’t worry, son. Oikawa will realize that this girl –whoever she is- isn’t the real deal. You’ll get his attention, I’m sure of it,” he said confidently.

Iwaizumi winced. “I’m not so sure about that.”

“Nonsense,” his dad argued. “With the amount of time that boy spends over here, and the way he looks up to you... It’s only a matter of time,” he promised.

Iwaizumi shrugged, his bottom lip wobbling again. His mother thrust his tea back into his hands, and Iwaizumi took a couple sips before he could start crying again. He felt stupid for ever being upset in the first place.

However, his parents seemed adamant that things would work out. While Iwaizumi wasn’t sure how –Oikawa only dated _girls_ , he never dated boys- it was still reassuring. Maybe there was hope for him and Oikawa yet.

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okie dokie. Sorry that this chapter took an actual month. 
> 
> I keep saying I want to update faster, and that's true. Like I genuinely want to update this every two weeks, and I try to do that, but this fic is so exhausting.
> 
> The comments for this fic have all been so amazing (everyone has been so kind and great, and I love all of you), and people keep saying I'm doing a good job at making things realistic, which is awesome, but it's also stressful because now I keep rethinking everything I write. I want it to seem as real as possible, even if it is about a bunch of gay volleyball dorks. So it's super hard. 
> 
> Also I just in general rethink everything about this fic because I have a lot of stuff working in it, like I can't. 
> 
> But anyway, next chapter will come as soon as I can manage. And also it's going to be about Aya and the end of her and Oikawa's stupid relationship, I am so done. 
> 
> Thank you for reading and commenting and being great, per usual! If you wanna hml, I'm at [@TheCheekyBrunette on Tumblr!](thecheekybrunette.tumblr.com)

**Author's Note:**

> Here's where it turns into a PSA: 
> 
> If you notice kids with a combination of the problems Oikawa has, please inform the proper authorities. A list of things to look for includes: Frequently missing school, wearing dirty clothes, clinginess, frequent illness, hunger, not having adequate clothing, untreated injuries, tiredness, thin or swollen tummy, failure to thrive, etc.
> 
> Look here for more information: https://www.nspcc.org.uk/preventing-abuse/child-abuse-and-neglect/neglect/signs-symptoms-effects-neglect/


End file.
